


The Devil's Attendant

by Glaux_Bryonia



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glaux_Bryonia/pseuds/Glaux_Bryonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Circumstances caused Allen to become a martyr for the sake of humanity. However, they just as easily could have made him a demon. It all depended on his first encounters with certain people. AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So… my first D gray-man fic. Hope you’ll enjoy. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own D gray-man.

 

Cold.

Numb.

White surrounded him.

The steady trickle of tears had long since stopped yet the pain hadn't. It kept seeping through him with the slow deadliness of a hunting predator.

God, it hurt.

At first the pain helped him keep himself distracted from the memories, but as the stars slowly made their way over the night sky the searing heat had diminished and been replaced with a dull throb, allowing exhaustion to slowly lull him to sleep. A single snowflake landed on the damaged tissue that covered the left side of his face, sending a small but sharp pinprick of pain into his skull.

More snow drifted down, landing on his hair and his clothes, on his legs stretched out in front of him. A few landed on his face and as the weather worsened the icy needles steadily started to drag old instincts to the surface.

For the first time in hours he moved, a simple shift of his head. The small movement send tendrils of hot pain through his head but that was okay. It helped him wake up. It helped him become a bit more aware. Aware of the fact that he was dying.

Again he shifted, his joints feeling like the rusty hinges of a door that hadn't been opened in years. Stiff and sluggish. He groaned painfully as his frozen muscles screamed at him for making them move. He let out a dry sob, having no tears left to cry nor the energy to shed them.

_Don't stop. Keep walking._

Walking… yeah, he had to get up and walk… A voice in the back of his head kept nagging about something. Something weird with his body.

He furrowed his brows and white hot pain jolted him further towards awareness. That was good. That was important. He repeated the action a few times, ignoring the warm droplets rolling down his skin through the cracks of dried blood. More stinging caused by the warmth against his freezing skin.

Finally his vision cleared a bit, enough for him to look down at his hands. His hands covered with the gloves Mana bought for him.

_Mana…_

But no, Mana wasn't important right now. Mana couldn't help him anyway. Anymore. Never…

_Never…_

With a hoarse cry he jerked his head to the side and welcomed the pain that came in two harsh waves from his face and his body as he fell to the side into the snow. With blurry eyes he looked down at himself and slowly realization started to seep in. Following close behind came a rising feeling of dread.

He wasn't shivering.

A memory flashed before his eyes. A child in an alley, lying completely still, eyes staring. Another child had tried to make the kid stand up, tried to drag her to away to somewhere warm. She hadn't reacted despite the boy's pleading and had slowly fallen asleep, never to wake up again.

 _Hypothermia_. A silent shadow that plagued the streets at night during the winter. The pale demon all homeless people knew and feared, subtly announcing its presence as your breath became visible. An unseen ghost that was as deadly as a festering stab wound in your gut…

In the end it was panic that drove him to get up and try to find shelter. Deep mindless panic, a primal survival instinct, enough to get him moving but on its own too weak to drive the sluggish stiffness from his heavy limbs. It would do.

He stumbled and fell, fought to get up again, and in a daze forced his unsteady feet to carry him further to the city. Away from the graveyard and away from the things he didn't want to remember.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Later on he couldn't remember how he had managed to reach the city, nor how he had ended up in that alley. What he did remember, however, was the old vagabond with his worn out blankets and his pitifully small fire.

Most people would say the man was as poor as could be, but for someone living on the streets he might as well be as rich as a king. He had something very few of the homeless could get their hands on during the winter: heat. When snow and ice piled up in the streets, it became as valuable as food, and often proved itself to be even harder to find. In the frozen world, the rules where simple. Stay warm and you live. Don't and you die. If you've got to choose between a meal and a warm spot go for the warm spot. Hunger is easier to survive than cold.

Simple rules. Simple and deadly. Those who defied them gambled their lives. Those who defied them died more often than not. He knew them and learned from experience - both his own and from others - to do everything to obey them.

Another rule was not to pick fights if you're not sure you'll win, unless you've got no other choice.

He was cold and freezing and knowing his luck hypothermia had already nestled itself in his bones. He had no other choice.

The old man noticed his presence and probably realized his predicament, because he got up and carefully laid the blankets aside before stepping away from the fire. In his hand he held a rusty old pipe.

For a moment they just gazed at each other, both trying to gauge the other. Then the old vagabond spoke, his voice creaky and raspy and laced with deep wet coughs. "Don' force me kiddo. I 'now what yer here for and yer ain' gettin' it. Go die somewhere else."

The one referred to as 'kiddo' simply stared back with one dull grey eye, the other one covered with too much dried blood to open.

In the end it was him that made the first move. A mindless shuffling towards the tantalizing glow of the fire, completely disregarding the looming shadow in front of him.

The old man frowned and then shrugged. These kind of things always happened during the winter. He raised his pipe and hit the kid in the shoulder, causing the boy's feet to slip and landed him in the snow. The blow hadn't been very hard, just a warning. The next blow, however, would be serious. The boy knew this and had to find a way to fight back or leave.

He knew he couldn't leave.

Numbly, he ran his frozen fingers through the snow in search for a weapon. In the end he thought he found something but even if he hadn't it wouldn't have mattered for long. He got only one chance. He blinked slowly up at the old man. The vagabond had come closer and leaned over him, he noticed detached.

"Oh, I see. Cold got a hold of yer, didn' it?"

A sigh.

"I'm sorry kiddo, yer choose the wron' place to go to. I ain' gonna help ye but I'll spare ye some sufferin', 'kay?"

Coughing.

"Go'bye, kiddo."

The glint of steel in the darkness kicked old reflexes awake and suddenly his hand wasn't that cold anymore. Something warm soaked his glove, tainting it a dark colour. Above him the old man coughed again and he felt warm rain upon his face. Then the man was no longer blocking the light of the fire. A small part of him that was still capable of feeling was grateful as he made his way to the warmth as fast as he could.

The blankets were old and smelled, but they were also big and still contained the heat of the old man's body. Carefully he wrapped them around himself and sat down near the fire, the closest he could get without accidentally burning something.

He fell asleep just as he started to shiver.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

The next few days he spend in a daze, barely aware of what he was doing as his body went through the motions that once had been his daily routine. The former habits came to him as old friends, resuming their activities as if they had never left.

'Explore the area.'

'Rekindle the fire.'

'Search through all the stuff in the alley.'

'Melt some snow and wash your wounds. Wrap them with the cleanest clothes you can find.'

'Search the old man's clothes. Take the jacket and spare garments to cover up yours which are too fancy.'

'Take everything useful.'

'Hide what you don't want to be found, like the body.'

'Leave.'

He did exactly as they told him.

A part of him that wasn't crippled by grief or pain remembered that the streets offered very few save camping places and thus he took to the roofs, dragging his precious cargo of blankets, small tools and spare clothes with him. The climbing was exhausting and would have probably meant his death if it wasn't for his experience as both a street rat and a circus artist. Still, the roofs covered with snow and ice were proving to be quite a challenge. He welcomed it, glad he had something to distract himself with.

_Sunrise._

It became easier to gauge which roof was safe to walk on.

The city awakened and people flooded the streets. He had to be careful so he wouldn't be noticed.

Finally: a good spot, relatively secluded and a lot of hiding places. 'Hide your stuff but stay close enough to keep an eye on it.'

'Observe the people, the shops. Try to find the best chances to earn money, to pickpocket, to snag something edible. Try to get to know the rules of the city, of the people living here. Watch out for gangs. Try to figure out their territories, which streets belong to who, and which gang is the most dangerous. Most important: which areas are no man's land. Those are the most dangerous of all. There, no one can consider himself safe.'

So many things he needed to know. Ignorance was a luxury he couldn't afford.

_Noon._

'Scavenge for food.'

'Earn money.'

_Evening._

'When the sun begins to set get your stuff and go somewhere safe. Avoid everyone who is out as soon as darkness creeps through the streets. They cannot be trusted.'

'Try to sleep, but always keep an eye out for danger. Be alert and ready to bolt at any time. You don't want them to get you.'

'Leave and find a new place first thing in the morning.'

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Every day the same schedule. Something to hold on to. Boring. Predictable. Both were good. He didn't need to think that way. Not about the part of him that was still weeping in a corner of his head. Not about the part that hadn't stopped screaming at himself. Not about the quiet part who's presence lay like a heavy cloak over his mind. Not about anything. Just food, shelter and those thugs around the corner.

He didn't know how long he lived like that. A week? Maybe two? It didn't matter. The constant vigilance, combined with the cold, was exhausting. Exhaustion meant sleep. Sleep without dreams. It meant a slow mind and little room for feelings. Exhaustion was bliss.

The left side of his face still hurt. Better to keep it covered. Pain was no problem.

A tiny part of his schedule changed as he found himself a permanent hiding place. That was okay, he could get jobs to make up for it.

The place itself was a good spot where two taller buildings leaned against a smaller one, creating a relatively secluded and protected area where the three met. The overhanging roofs of the bigger buildings would protect him from rain and snow, and the walls would keep the wind at bay. It couldn't be seen from the streets and there were no windows looking out on it. He was sure he would be save there, cause no one with a brain in his head would risk his neck climbing the treacherous slopes unless they had some experience in that area. He himself didn't care about the danger.

But in the end it wasn't the protection the place offered that convinced his dazed mind to stay. It was the warmth. The smaller building housed a blacksmith and a glassblower, and the heat of their ovens seeped through the roof where he had decided to make his home, warming the area and making it free of ice and snow.

Now the biggest problem would be to keep his hideout secret. People tended to get angry when they discovered a homeless orphan on their roof, often mistaking them for burglars. His best bet was to use the gutters since they were free of snow thanks to the ovens, enabling him to go back and forth without leaving footprints. On the downside they would get very slippery overnight as the water running through them froze. It was a dangerous game he would be playing, but as long as he was careful he should be able to manage.

The next day he made sure to fill the spare time with something else.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

The days turned to weeks and the weeks became months and the only reason he detected the passing of time was the snow that changed from dry, gently whirling flakes into ice cold, wet particles that piled up in heaps of dirty, half-molten slush.

As he learned to know the city itself and his daily routine no longer demanded his full attention, he slowly learned to let go of his irrational fear of simple thoughts. Slowly but surely, he could allow himself to think about yesterday. And last week. And that kind woman from the bakery that sometimes would deliberately look away when he stole a piece of bread.

Slowly he could let his lifeless doll-like state slip a bit.

Slowly he could allow himself to feel the tiniest hint of emotions again. Displeasure as he went to sleep with hunger gnawing at his stomach. Satisfaction when he managed to successfully relieve a drunk of his purse. But never more than that.

Not once did he look at the memories from before he found his home on the roofs, nor did he dare to speak politely or take of the ragged clothes that had belonged to the old man, lest he saw the chequered pattern of the clothes underneath. Anything that might remind him of his old life was quickly avoided or shoved into the deepest, darkest abyss of his mind.

In the end his recovery didn't last, for it was then, when he finally found the courage to explore the less threatening parts of his mind, that his fragile world shattered.

Just as the sun announced its presence with a pale glow in the east did he run into someone. The next moment he heard a few loud bangs and felt something hot grazing his cheek. A heartbeat later all that remained were a pile of smouldering metal and a few bullet holes the size of fists in the wall behind him.

Those, and an enormous, eerily familiar, white claw where his left arm used to be. The same claw that had killed Mana.

At that moment he screamed and screamed and screamed, not even stopping as the claw disappeared and his left arm returned. He kept screaming even when doors banged open and people yelled at him to be quiet.

He screamed until the world went black.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

He woke up with a head full of suffocating wool and an equally fuzzy mind, lying in a foreign room without the slightest idea where he was or how he came to be there. Last thing he remembered was blacking out in some dead-end street filled with garbage, after…

… After…

He didn't know how long he'd been staring at the ceiling when someone finally noticed he was awake. Distantly he realized that someone was yelling and other people showed up in response.

Someone touched his shoulder. Then they forced him to sit up. They shook him, lightly slapped his cheek, pinched him, anything to get him to react. He didn't.

His eyes saw but he did not. He heard them calling to him, but no words came through. In his head there was only room for one single thought, one that had been running circles in his head like a trapped rat.

_It came back._

The claw that killed Mana had come back. The monster-claw that seemed to live in his left arm _came back_.

And it had killed another person.

He shivered and a tiny sound escaped him, sending the nameless people around him into a frenzy. Whether it had been a whimper or a choked sob he didn't know. His eyes stung. He let them.

Numbness coursed through him.

He knew he had killed someone.

 _Again_.

Just like the old man in the alley.

_Just like Mana._

_Mana…_

He cried. Deep, painful sobs that wrecked his small frame and made his throat feel raw and sore. It took days before he started functioning again. By then the police no longer had the heart to question him.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

It had been shortly after he'd left the police station, when he finally discovered someone had removed the bandage around his left eye. The whole time, ever since his first night in this city, he had kept his wounded eye covered, only taking it of for short periods of time to wash it. After a few weeks he'd been able to see through it again, but he had become so used to the constant pain he hadn't noticed when it slowly dimmed and disappeared, so he had kept wearing the bandage.

But now, for the first time, he was using it again. The wonder of touching and moving it without pain managed to temporarily drive away the depression the return of the monster-arm had wrought upon him. The city, seen with both eyes, seemed to be a different city than he remembered.

And now he was actually paying attention to his surroundings, he also noticed the way people were staring at his face.

Feeling slightly curious he walked to a window and peered at his reflection. What he saw shocked him, and he immediately understood the reaction of the people. Without his hood on he finally noticed his hair - once a rusty brown - had become an unsettling ghostly white. That, and the angry red scar that ran over his eye and cheek. It was way too intricate and clean to be caused by accident.

He shuffled closer, eyes wide with disbelief. Hesitantly he wiped the pale strands from his forehead, almost afraid to see the rest of the scar.

He gasped when he saw the blood red pentacle above his brow. The shape, combined with the blood red colour, made it eerie and menacing.

It was a scar fit for a demon.

His fist smashed through the window, shattering the disturbing image that was his reflection.

He ran.

He ran, not because the owner of the broken window was chasing him, but to get away from the sight of his own face. His face that was both white and red, just like his arm.

His demon arm.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

That night the tears refused to stop flowing as he curled up beneath his blankets and heavy sobs nearly choked him. Inside he was drowning in the pain that radiated from his heart, and the memories he'd tried to forget kept assaulting him without rest.

- _"You turned me into a Demon!"-_

His whole body trembled in silent agony.

- _"Curse you, Allen, curse you! CURSE YOU!"-_

He bit down on his left arm in an attempt to muffle his miserable wails. _I'm sorry Mana…_

_-"You turned me into a Demon!"-_

He hadn't meant to do that! He'd just wanted his father back. He hadn't meant to…

_I'm sorry._

His breath came in hiccupping gasps, grating inside his throat and making it feel as if it was bleeding. _Please Mana, I'm sorry!_

He hadn't meant to, but Mana had punished him anyway. Exactly like he deserved.

_I'm sorry…_

He had punished Allen by making him a demon too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For those who are wondering: I used the word ‘Demon’ instead of ‘Akuma’ because I’ve always found it a bit odd that random citizens know the Japanese word. Instead the word ‘Akuma’ will only be used by insiders (like members of the Black Order and the Earl and his helpers). Though, honestly speaking, I kind of needed it to be ‘Demon’ for the sake of Allen’s breakdown just now. But the other argument still stands.
> 
> That said: FEEDBACK IS MORE THAN WELCOME! So please tell me what you thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An unusually quick update for my standards, I hope it’s to your liking. At this moment the inspiration is flowing quite strongly, though there’s no way to tell when it’ll dry up or I‘ll be stuck doing homework. Better make the most of it for now. Enjoy!

 

Already two days had passed and the third day was about to start. He woke up with the sun glaring in his aching eyes, which were painfully swollen from both sleep and spending too much time wallowing in misery. Unlike yesterday, he didn't bother reaching for the worn out bag next to him. He already knew he was out of food.

He moved and whimpered. His head felt like someone covered the inside of his skull with needles and then started pounding them in with a sledgehammer. Bloody hell! In an attempt to lessen the pain he took a sip of water, whimpering pitifully as the light pressure of the old bottle reopened the bloody cracks on his dry lips. Another sip and he was out of water as well.

He let his hand fall to the side and the bottle thudded dully upon the roof. Who cared if anyone heard him? He shielded his sensitive eyes with his arms.

Blearily, he stared at the overhanging roof; at the old remains of cobwebs, the mouldy supporting beams, and the blotted undefined colour of the drainage. He felt like crying again but he just didn't have the energy for it. And it would make him feel like chopping off his head even more. Though that might be a good idea anyway.

He groaned weakly. Besides his head killing him, it appeared his throat and nose had decided to make this morning hell too. They felt like they were clotted with thick slime that clogged his airways and filled every little cavity with an aching pressure. He could barely breathe.

He sniffed in a pitiful attempt to clear his airways a bit, but instead a clump of slime shot loose and cut of the last of his breathing. Immediately panic seized him and he started coughing and gasping; spluttering as his struggles only released more of the suffocating stuff. He almost vomited from the force his body used to get air again and tears ran down his face in pain and terror. Finally, after a particularly nasty series of coughs a small airway opened up and he could draw the tiniest bit of air again. It was enough for him to regain a shred of control over his trembling lungs. in the end he could breathe semi-normal again, but his throat felt incredibly raw and painful, as if he had reopened a wound by roughly pulling off the crust.

He sobbed dryly. It hurt so much. His head. His throat. His heart. Everything.

_Just let me die…_

But no. That would of course be too easy. And when had his life ever been easy? Easy was something Fate definitely begrudged him.

_Well, guess it was easier when Mana-_

No.

No. No. No. Not going there. No way. That would only hurt more.

His eyes started to sting as if someone jammed a needle in his tear ducts. He laughed miserably. _Too late._

And then all thoughts faded when darkness dragged him under.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

_He was running as fast as his legs could carry him and tears of fright blurred his already limited vision. Dark spots danced before his eyes and his breath was barely more than a thin, desperate wail in his throat._

_Air… he needed air…_

_His heart beat like a mad drum in his chest and every pulse felt like a hammer slamming into his ribcage from the inside, and suddenly he was no longer running away. Instead he was running towards a painfully familiar silhouette, colourful against the grey ruins of a nameless city._

_He tried to scream, to call, anything to make the person stop, to please wait for him… but he couldn't and it was getting dark…_

_The world shifted and turned, grey and black curling and stretching around each other, and he was falling, falling further and further down into the darkness; further and further away from that painfully clear figure above him._

_He stretched out his arm, pleading for it to reach the light, reaching for the white face above. "PLEASE…!"_

_Looking over the edge of the black hole Mana shook his head, his painted face twisted in incredible sadness._

" _I told you to never stop walking, Allen…"_

He flew upright with a hoarse cry, only to have his body fail him and he collapsed, coughing violently. During the short time he'd been asleep his condition had worsened. His eyes were swollen and had become surrounded with a flaky crust, and he could taste the inflammation in the little wounds on his lips. The world spun and the roof felt unsteady, as if it was one of the trampolines he had once played on with Mana.

He shivered and then started to sweat, as if an ice cold wind had caressed his spine, before he felt as if he'd been sitting in a too warm bath for too long a time. He was pretty sure he was running a fever.

He coughed and couldn't bring himself to care. It was better if he died here. Would probably hurt less. Murderers and demons were better off dead.

_\- "I told you to never stop walking…" -_

His head snapped up, and for a split second he saw Mana. A disbelieving smile spread over his face. Then the image was gone, leaving only cold disappointment.

Really, he should have known.

Angry at himself he let his head thud on the roof, ignoring the fact it hampered his breathing, which was already difficult enough as it was.

_Never stop walking._

It was almost nostalgic. 'Don't stop, keep walking' had been Mana's favourite phrase. Not strange that he spoke similar words in his dream, the last Allen would ever hear from him.

His eyes widened.

Never stop walking. Those were Mana's last words right? Even if they were said in a dream. Weren't you supposed to honour the last wish of a dead person? And 'never stop walking' could be counted as a wish…

His let out a miserable wail. Had Mana come here to tell him that? Even after he killed him? He made a choking sound, something between a cough and a sob. His heart felt as if it was shredding itself, and at the same time it felt lighter than before.

_Mana…_

Struggling against the weakness in his limbs he got up and carefully made his way to the edge of the roof. Determination intensified the feverish glow of his face as he started to climb down. If Mana wanted him to live with his curse then he would try his hardest. No more crying or self-pity. No more laying down and wishing for death. He would live to fulfil Mana's last wish.

His fingers slipped and he fell the last few feet, landing in a heap on the ground when his legs gave out under the sudden weight. With a grunt Allen pulled himself up and walked away, ignoring the swaying motions of the world around him.

He would live even if it meant becoming a full-fledged demon. He owed Mana at least that much.

– _"Never stop walking"_ –

The words slurred as they left his mouth, hindered by his wheezing breath. "I won't, Mana."

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

It cost him a long time and a lot of hardship, but in the end he did manage to recover from his fever. Thanks to Mana he had been just in time to get himself into motion. A few hours later and he had the dark suspicion it would have been too late to do anything about it. The infection would have settled too deep. Great, just another thing he owed the old clown for.

Luckily the weather had taken a turn for the better. It was warmer outside and though rain was dangerous, it wasn't nearly as deadly as snow or ice. He was really grateful for the overhanging roof at his little hideout, because otherwise he wouldn't have had a snowball's chance in hell to get his clothes dry; well, relatively dry considering the season. And he really would rather not have to deal with pneumonia, seeing how he hadn't fully recovered from his cold yet. Actually, it was a miracle he hadn't caught pneumonia back then, cause seriously, it should have jumped him like a cat would a mouse with a broken leg.

A sudden gust of wind nearly pulled his hood off, and he almost dropped the barrel he'd been holding to fix it. He tried his best to keep his demonic features hidden, but especially the hair proved to be a challenge. The scar he kept covered with a makeshift bandage and till now it hadn't been warm enough for people to look weirdly at his gloves. He suspected that would soon change. Maybe he could bandage his hand too? Or maybe he should try to find some thinner gloves…

His thoughts were interrupted by the yelling of the man that had hired him for this little job. The heavily muscled male was venting his frustrations on one of the other boys for dropping his precious cargo. Allen hurried to bring the barrel to the guy at the ship, glad that the man had been too distracted to notice his slacking. If he had he would have been replaced in an instant, without even getting his money.

Allen winched as a loud slap of skin colliding with skin echoed from behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that the man had become physical. He turned away and listened to the big guy in front of him, who was telling him what to get next. As he ran to the heavy bales of silk he heard several more slaps, followed by painful sounding thuds. Clearly the contents of that box had been valuable for the man to start kicking. Or maybe he just enjoyed beating street rats, cause really, who would care to interfere? And it was not like no one would be willing to take the boy's place either. Many were willing to risk a few beatings to get their hands on some money.

Just like him.

As he returned to the ship he saw to his astonishment that someone _did_ care, cause there was a person in a long black coat standing over the clumsy boy, stopping the man for landing another hit. He stared until he realized that the stranger had let the aggressive man go, an then he hurried to get his load delivered before the guy would decide to turn on him instead. Just in time it seemed. He could feel those mean eyes digging into his back.

He shivered and for the rest of the day he concentrated completely on his work. He had the feeling that he wouldn't get off the hook a third time and the man was agitated enough to beat him to a pulp if he annoyed him. The black-clad stranger had ensured that.

Evening was already well on its way when they finally finished and received their pay. Allen looked sadly at the little pile of coins, knowing it wouldn't keep him alive for long. Especially since his appetite had increased significantly after getting used to getting fed on a daily basis with Mana. Really though, it should have been easier getting used to hunger again than it was proving to be. But apparently he had less self-control than he had thought.

Knowing that complaining wouldn't get him anywhere except in trouble, Allen pocketed his earnings with a sigh and left. He never realized that all that time, the dark stranger had been watching him from behind the window of a pub.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

It was quite pathetic for a seasoned waif like him not to notice he was being followed. Seriously, all the warning bells should have been screaming at him, _but no_ , instead he only felt a small uncomfortable tingle in the back of his neck, which was easily overlooked because those kind of things always happened when someone was staring unfriendly at him. And _that_ happened way too often to put him on high alert anymore.

So now he could only curse himself for not noticing, as he had been cornered by the man dressed in black, in a shady secluded alley, with nothing in his hand to defend himself with, while the guy in question had a quite menacing looking dagger in his hand. Sheathed, but still.

He gritted his teeth and prepared for the worst. "Get the bloody hell away from me, you arsemonger," he growled.

For a moment the man looked surprised, almost as if he had expected him to attack right away, before he put his dagger away and raised his hands, indicating peaceful intentions.

Allen wasn't falling for it. That gesture was abused way too often to open a gap in a person's defence. A common tactic for gangs that were out for blood.

Quickly he reached for his own dagger, which was nothing more than a long piece of broken glass with some rope around it as handle. He drew it at the same time the man started speaking.

"Are you the boy that the police found in an alley after a strange explosion, approximately a month ago?"

Allen narrowed his eyes. "What'd make you think that?"

"You match the description. I can't see it very well because of your hood, but your hair is white isn't it? Instead of some very pale blond most people probably mistake it for." The man tilted his head, dark blue eyes regarding him with reserved curiosity. "I that bandage across your eye meant to hide your scar? Clever. Though the underside of it is still visible. I really got to give it to you, you've managed to disguise yourself quite effectively. So effectively no one I asked remembered you the way the police described you. I've been looking on my own for more than two weeks."

"Piss off, why would you look for _me_?" Allen sneered, giving the stranger a incredulous look. He really was getting a bad feeling about this. A well-dressed person like this looking for some nameless brat of the streets? _Without_ some ulterior motive? Not bloody likely. And ulterior motives just _screamed_ trouble.

"I want to talk."

The boy snorted, hiding his nervousness with false bravado. "About what? That incident? Hate to break it to you, but if you believed I could tell you something then you've wasted your time. I don't know anything."

"You don't have to know anything, I just want to hear what you saw. If you tell me then I might be able to figure out what was going on."

Allen glared. "I don't care what it was, as long as it stays the hell away from me. Now scram."

The man sighed tiredly. Hah, as if he had the freaking right to feel tired! Nutter didn't look like he had to work that often. "I'll pay you for your answers."

Allen hesitated. On one hand really wanted to leave. Anything that might have to do even the tiniest bit he wanted to avoid, and the fact that the man had some obscure reason to seek him out worried him.

The incident had been weird and terrifying, but also small, and had had no consequences for anyone but him and maybe the family of the dead guy. Granted, his memory hadn't been the best at that time, but he was pretty sure his arm had left that person as a pile of metallic rubble. Without a corpse there couldn't have been evidence of murder, right? If they had evidence, the police definitely wouldn't have left him off the hook without questioning.

On the other hand, if the man truly suspected him of something bad, wouldn't he be more forceful? Cause in that case a bit of extra money would be great.

Carefully he observed the guy, who was still waiting patiently for his answer. His appearance wasn't anything special. Light coloured hair - probably blonde, but it was hard to tell now it was getting dark - and light skin. Average height and build, which basically meant he was at least two times heavier than Allen; maybe three. Black clothes of high quality covered his form. Nothing extraordinary, just tasteful and durable. Perfect for comfortable traveling. It looked a bit like an uniform with that silvery insignia on his left breast.

Grey eyes squinted to get a clearer view. The insignia looked a bit like a star or a flower, though not exactly. More like-

His eyes widened, pupils dilating in fear. It was a cross. A very _official_ looking cross. This stranger was a member of the church! He could think of only _one_ reason why the church would send someone after him, and it wasn't pleasant.

He bolted.

He had only gotten a few meters away when a strong grip around his wrist jerked him back. In less than a second the older man had him pinned, leaving the white haired boy fruitlessly struggling with his right arm uncomfortably twisted behind his back.

"Whoa! Calm down, kid! I won't hurt you, I just want to speak with you!"

Allen forced himself to quit fighting, despite the terror poisoning his blood. Now he couldn't get away that easily he would need every ounce of calm he had to find an other way to escape.

"Why did you run?" The tone was almost concerned, with an odd undertone of relief. Not that Allen paid attention to it since he was distracted by his fear, which had increased when he realized just how close the man was standing. And how helpless he was right now.

Finally he managed to spit out an answer. "You're from the church."

"So?" Confusion resounded in that single word.

Allen gritted his teeth. "I don't trust the church."

"… Ah." Allen hated how understanding the stranger sounded and prayed that the guy had drawn the wrong conclusion. If not then he was screwed.

"It's okay, I swear I won't harm you."

The boy scoffed. "As if I would believe that!"

A sigh. "Really, child, I understand that it's difficult, but please give me the benefit of doubt. I don't know what happened to you to make you this wary but I swear on everything I hold dear, I hold no ill intentions towards you."

Allen growled. "Yeah right, why where you holding that knife of yours when you were following me then?"

"A safety measure in case I had misjudged you."

The boy tensed. "In case you had misjudged me?" he whispered. Oh, damn it all, now his fear was also showing in his voice.

"Yes."

Allen hesitated. Misjudged him? Misjudged him to be what? A demon? If that guy believed he was a normal human then maybe he could still escape. "… Why?"

Now it was the man's turn to hesitate. "… What do you know about demons?"

Allen's heart was thundering in his chest. He had no choice but to play along. "What do you mean?"

"If you promise not to run I'll let you go. It's easier to talk that way, okay?"

"Fine." Running wouldn't help anyway. The man was both faster and stronger than him.

As promised, the man released his arm and quickly Allen turned to face him, rubbing his sore wrist in the process. Maybe he had been wrong about this man not having to work a lot. That grip had been painfully powerful.

The man scratched the back of his head. "Now, where to start…"

Allen snorted, all the while quivering on the inside. "How about explaining what the hell you need me for. And don't try to feed me some crap story, there's no way someone like you would be looking for me if whatever the incident was about didn't have anything to do with religion."

The man blinked and then looked slightly embarrassed. Fucker really had planned to lie then. "You would probably have a hard time believing me…"

"Try me."

The man sighed. "Right."

For a moment he stared at his hands before he faced Allen again. "For now you'll just have to take my word that everything I'll be telling you is true. In this world there are creatures called akuma, who live among us and kill in secret. In English 'akuma' means 'demon'. unlike the demons from legends and myths, their existence is an undeniable fact. They are weapons made by a being called the Millennium Earl, who is mankind's greatest enemy and whose goal is to destroy all of humanity."

Allen's eyes widened. For a while he had been wondering about his demonic nature and now this guy might end up giving him some answers. Unintentional maybe, but who cared? With baited breath he listened to the rest of the man's tale. However, as the man proceeded dread started to knot up his insides.

"Akuma are very dangerous, capable of killing someone in a single blow. Unfortunately, they are very difficult to find as well, because they look exactly like humans when they wear their disguise, which they nearly always do. Their real forms look like mechanical creatures or monsters, often a mix of both. When they reveal their real forms they also unlock the weapons they use to kill. Worse, they only cast of their disguise when they're about to murder someone. The easiest way to find them is looking for the traces they leave behind when killing. The biggest clue being the lack of a body."

His body was trembling from how tense he was, and Allen couldn't keep the tremble out of his voice when he whispered "You're joking, right?" He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding against one another. God damn it all, if the man knew this much then surely he already suspected Allen. When one person died and the other walked away unharmed it wasn't that hard to figure out who the killer was, right? And his claw had reduced the body to rubble, which certainly could count as 'lack of a body'…

The man looked grim. "I wish I was, but unfortunately that isn't the case."

In a half-hearted attempt to keep up the act Allen asked, "H-how?"

"The weapons they use carry a virus that destroys the flesh and bones, turning it into-"

At that point the stranger noticed his shaking. "… Oh. My apologies, I didn't mean to scare you…"

White hair swished as he shook his head, hating the pity in that voice but at the same time incredibly thankful for the misunderstanding. It allowed him to survive a little longer.

"… Is alright…" He answered, wary eyes locked on his unsuspecting enemy.

The man looked doubtful but continued anyway. "Right… I'll leave out the gruesome details. What you need to know is that an akuma reveals itself when it kills because it always transforms then, making it easy to recognize."

Allen flinched. _Not always. There was one time that I didn't transform…_ In the back of his mind the face of the old man rose to the surface. Angrily he kicked it back down.

In a hasty attempt to distract the man he asked, "So you can only recognize them when they're murdering someone?"

The man's expression turned thoughtful. "Not necessarily… they all carry the mark of a five-pointed star somewhere on their body. They learn to hide it though."

 _Right._ Allen thought. _My scar._ he felt as if all escape routes were cut of one by one. He was undeniable one of the demons his guy was talking about. The chances of him talking his way out of this were becoming smaller and smaller. Soon the man would realize and then… Then what? _Then the guy will probably call some demon slayer to get rid of me._

His muscles tensed even more, amplifying the tremors running through him. No. No way he was allowing that. He had made a promise to Mana. He had sworn to keep walking and he _would_. Even if he had to kill for it.

All he could do right now was buy time and hope for an opening.

"I still don't see how this got anything to do with me." He had to remember to thank Mana as soon as he got time to do so properly, cause without his acting exercises he would have never sounded as believable as he did at that moment. And for the so called magic tricks, which allowed him to keep his makeshift dagger ready without being noticed.

The man scratched his cheek. "Ah, yes. Well…" Suddenly he sounded dead serious. "You remember the incident we talked about? We believe you ran into an akuma back then. We want to know how you survived."

"… Ah." _Simple,_ Allen thought. _I survived because_ _I am the akuma._ Not that he would ever tell the guy that. No, in this case he would need to lie, and it had to be good. Too bad he couldn't come up with anything.

…

_Well… shit._

The silence stretched and slowly soured and became uncomfortable. The man sighed. "Please, child, I understand your mistrust, but quit making this difficult. Why won't you tell me?"

"I don't trust you." Such a weak answer was all he had to give. How pitiful.

"Why? Surely it's not just me being a member of the church, now is it?" The man looked at him as if trying to read his thoughts. "What is the real reason?"

Again, silence reigned. Finally it was Allen who sighed and broke it, knowing he'd _have_ to speak up to keep the man unaware a bit longer. Though it might already be too late for that… His mind was working in overdrive, desperately searching for a reason, no matter how weak. "You haven't even introduced yourself."

The man sounded surprised when he answered. "Oh… my apologies. I hadn't intended to be rude. Though I fail to see how it will increase your trust…"

"It's the usual approach of those that want to hurt someone, so the victim won't have any information to give even if he manages to escape. No introductions, a lot of talk as distraction and a face unreadable because of the dark. You are suspicious." On the inside he was quite pleased with the reply, which didn't turn out as feeble as he had feared.

"Right. Then please allow me to correct myself." The man offered him his hand, the vague outline of his glove barely visible despite the streetlights around the corner. "My name is Gunde Barbro. I'm an exorcist of the Black Order."

Hesitantly Allen mirrored the gesture, tilting his head at the foreign word. "Allen, waif. What is an exorcist?"

Pride strengthened the voice answering him. "An exorcist is an Apostle of God, chosen to destroy akuma and fight to defeat the Earl. We are soldiers in Gods Army."

Grey eyes widened and an ice cold wave of undiluted terror rolled through the boy's mind, freezing his insides.

_I'm dead._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Gunde’ apparently means ‘warrior’ in Swedish, and ‘Barbro’ ‘stranger’. Whether its true or not, I liked the name and found it fitting.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is more than welcome.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and see you next time.


	3. Chapter 3

 

_Bloody sodding hell._

_I'm dead._

_Like,_ dead  _dead._

 _Six-feet-under_ dead _. Though I doubt he'll bother to give me a grave._

Detached thoughts, flittering through the back of his mind as the rest of him devoted a few seconds to the foulest language he knew, which was pretty damn foul considering what kind of public he'd served snacks to during shows when he hadn't been partaking himself. All intentions of keeping his shaking under control flew out of the window as fear ran like a vicious acid through his veins.

A demon hunter. A honest-to-God demon hunter! Damn it all, his guy had been toying with him, waiting for him to run blindly into his trap. Surely he already knew, surely he'd already realized…

His eye flashed to the place where the man had hidden his dagger. Would that be the weapon that would take his life?

"-boy?… Allen? Hey!…"

With a start he realized the exorcist was calling him. Quickly he forced himself to look at the man's face, who seemed almost worried in the darkness.

_Hah, as if._

"Hey, are you alright? You're shaking. Are you cold?"

For a long moment Allen stared at him. Then nodded, not really knowing how else to respond.

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped and instead tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

The man was taking of his coat.

"… should have thought of that before. Here, you can borrow-"

With a jolt Allen realized this was his chance. In a flash the white haired boy was upon his feet, using the short moment the man's hands were stuck in the sleeves to strike. The jagged glass in his hand bit deeply into the exorcist's throat, glistering with the cold promise of pain in the dim light of the moon.

For a short moment both were frozen in their positions as dark liquid seeped out of the wound towards the ground, staining both gloves and coat with black blotches as the sharp tang of spilled blood filled the air.

Then the man kicked Allen away, which in turn caused the glass to be violently yanked from the damaged flesh. A shaking hand rose to the wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding as lungs audibly struggled against the red flood that threatened to drown them.

With wide eyes the boy pressed his back against the wall, watching how the man desperately tried to find a way to stop his inevitable demise. He gasped when the man rose to his feet and quickly scrambled away, though it proved to be unnecessary when the man collapsed after just two steps.

Minutes seemed hours as he watched the exorcist's final moments. Then all went silent.

It was over.

In the dark his own breath sounded way too loud. Somewhere in the distance you could hear drunken laughter and people speaking with exited voices, but those sounds did nothing to break the tense silence that hung heavily within the darkness of the alley.

Seconds passed and as the night proceeded as if nothing happened, some of the tension drained from his body to make place for exhaustion. With shaky legs he forced himself to stand up, letting out a shuddering sigh when he realized he really was going to live.

As fast as he could he made his way to the exit, eager to leave this particular nightmare behind.

However, the cold and the fear had drained his energy more than he had thought, making his balance unreliable and his legs unwilling to move. With a tired sigh and still mere meters away from the cooling body he was forced to seek support from a nearby wall.

For a moment his eye wandered back to the corpse. The once proud exorcist was now just a darker spot in the surrounding shadows, though the morning light would solve that in a few hours.

He cursed.

Turning back, he returned to the dead man and grabbed his arm to drag him away. There was no way he could leave him lying around as a big sodding clue screaming 'murder'. He stopped however, when he noticed the dark spots on the ground.

For a moment he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, until he remembered the man's heavy bleeding. He grimaced, knowing the same blood was staining his glove. And he could actually feel the wetness, now he thought about it.

With a huff of frustration he plopped himself down to think, knowing that soon, whoever walked this narrow road would find the bloodstains on the ground. Assuming he'd actually manage to get rid of the corpse of course.

And then the police would know.

And after _them_ the demon hunters would know, and _they_ would surely also know what it meant. Or at least they would look more deeply into any research the guy had been doing before his death.

He gritted his teeth. It was just a matter of time before he would be hunted again…

Suddenly his eyes went wide. He couldn't hide the murder, no, but maybe he shouldn't try to. In a city like this people got killed almost every day. Bar brawls, gang fights, robberies, you name it. And though this wasn't one of the truly bad areas, it was still dangerous.

His nose wrinkled in disgust at what he was considering. Surely he hadn't sunken that low yet…

A miserable laugh escaped his cramping throat, closely followed by the first wave of sickness. No, he hadn't sunken that low. He'd already reached a much greater depth when he had killed Mana. He shuddered and quickly turned when his stomach decided to empty itself.

When the heaves stopped for a few seconds he clenched his jaw and fought off the next set of cramps. His stomach was twisting and turning and knotting up in extremely painful ways, but he couldn't afford to lose more time. He had stayed here way too long already.

Taking a big gulp of air he steeled himself and returned his attention to the dead exorcist.

It was an immense struggle and took more time than he was comfortable with, but in the end the corpse rested underneath a heap of trash minus his belongings. Hopefully, the lack of personal belongings would hamper any attempts identification enough, because he really didn't feel like maiming a corpse, no matter how much time it might buy him.

And on a more practical note, this way the police would probably see it as just another violent robbery.

Looking back, deep regret laced his words as he whispered a final apology. Then he heaved the bundle of bits and bobs on his back and left.

In the distance, the grand church bells chimed, their mournful sound echoing through the now empty alley.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

The trip back was dangerous and difficult, reminding him once again of his reasons not to venture out after dark. Really, despite keeping to the roofs as much as he could he still almost ended up with some scum in a dark alley. _Twice._

And both during the maybe ten minutes he had needed to cross a few streets that were too broad to jump. Talk about bad luck.

He muttered curses through his clenched teeth and gladly welcomed every shred of anger. Anything to keep his mind off the dead exorcist.

Over and over he told himself that he'd had no other choice. It didn't matter. He still felt sickened to the bone.

 _I'm a murderer. A demon. An_ akuma _._

The exorcist would have killed him. One look at his scar, one look at his arm. He would have _died._

_I can't. I promised Mana._

But there was still blood on his glove, and the stolen goods felt like lead on his shoulders. It weighted him down with guilt heavy enough to nearly drag him off the slippery roofs.

 _I just want to forget tonight_ ever _happened._

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

The light was far brighter than he was used waking to, but at least it chased of the restless images from his nightmares. A watery morning sun shone down on him, making the silver ornaments of the exorcist's coat shine.

He looked at the bundle with bitter distaste. Even now, with the evidence lying next to him, he could barely belief he had murdered someone like that.

It was one thing to kill someone delirious and desperate, or have his claw act on its own. To kill like he had… To strike out in cold blood, to talk to someone and _deciding_ to _get rid of him…_

When? When had he become so awful?

_When I killed Mana on a stranger's command._

Nowadays that voice would appear in his nightmares from time to time. Creaky and cruel and sickeningly _cheerful;_ so filled with glee it was terrifying…

_-"Ah, my dear akuma.~ Go ahead and kill him. That's an order.~"-_

And then his defective arm had turned into that white claw, and it had obeyed. It had torn apart the metal body that contained Mana's soul, forcing him to kill the only person that had ever loved him.

_The exorcist said it was the Earl of the Millennium who made akuma… so I guess I was made by him too._

_I wonder if the one that commanded me was the Earl?_

He recalled piercing eyes behind gleaming glasses, an inhuman smile showing too much teeth, and a grinning moon on a high top hat.

He shivered, and hated the memories that refused to stay silent. If only they would leave him _alone_ …

He felt so confused. Why didn't he know anything? If he was created by him then why didn't the Earl _tell_ -

Suddenly the world was whiting out as thousands of searing needles seemed to stab into his left arm. He couldn't even scream from the pain. _It hurts! It hurts! God, why-_

And just as suddenly as it began it was gone, leaving him a shuddering mess of cramping muscles as his scattered mind tried to gather itself.

Blinking, he felt echoes of pain slowly die out.

_W-what happened?_

Shaking, he rose. _What_ happened _?_

With trembling fingers he pulled up his sleeve to peer underneath. It was hard to tell since he didn't look at this arm very often, but the veins seemed to be swollen. Prying off his glove, he tried to see anything that could explain the pain, but the red skin was as repulsing as ever. Except that around the cross the veins laid like cables upon the skin.

He shivered. _What's going on?_

For a while he waited with baited breath for the pain to return.

But time was slipping through his fingers like water, and he had to leave soon. Before the demon hunters came looking for their missing member.

Shaken and disturbed, he left.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Landscapes drifted by the window. The pale greens of early spring mixed with beautiful shades of orange and gold as the sun started to set.

Allen scowled at them.

Selling the exorcist's stuff had taken longer than he had anticipated and had earned him less than he had hoped. He was sure that odd little bat-like machine had been worth a lot more, but just because he hadn't known what it was the shop owner had refused to pay his price. Asshole.

Absentmindedly he fiddled with the hem of his new jacket. Well, new to him. It was at least second hand, but it wasn't that worn and had a nice big hood to hide his hair. That was good enough.

Hiding his scar had been trickier. An eye patch wasn't big enough and too many people had seen him using bandages, so this time he had chosen to use make up. It had felt odd to paint his face again. And he wasn't sure he was happy with how it reminded him of better times.

Though he was lucky to be so pale, otherwise he would have never been able to hide the unnatural whiteness upon his skin with a few smudges. Now he just looked like he hadn't bothered to wash his face after a hard day working.

A faint twinge of pain ran up his arm. A few tense moments later he sighed in relief.

Since he had left he had already suffered through two more pain attacks, one which had lasted almost a full minute and would have left him on the ground if he hadn't already been sitting. As it was, he was lucky it only earned him some weird looks and the kind inquiry of a concerned lady.

It was terrifying.

Terrifying how his own body was betraying him. Or maybe it was just the arm. The pain was excruciating and even after it had passed the world kept greying out at odd times.

By now he couldn't really bring himself to feel sorry for the dead exorcist. Obviously that bastard had done something to him, and he was pretty sure it had damaged his arm.

_Whatever it was, he probably did it when he grabbed me._

And now he had no idea what to do. A doctor wouldn't be able to solve it. He could only hope it would get better with time.

With a sigh he picked up his satchel. Another thing he had bought with the exorcist's money. He rummaged through his meagre belongings.

 _Of course the food is at the bottom,_ he thought grumpily.

His hand bumped against metal wrapped in cloth and pure agony crashed through him.

It took everything he had to keep from screaming.

When the pain receded again it took him several heartbeats to get the world back into focus. Several worried faces surrounded him.

"Are you alright, lad?" An middle-aged man asked. He had a fatherly look and thin laugh lines at his eyes.

"Y-yeah… My apologies. I'm alright now." A pleasant smile and a few more reassurances later the small crowd returned to their seats, still shooting him concerned looks from time to time.

It took great effort to keep up a calm appearance, but he couldn't risk suspicion. He had to make sure there wouldn't be even the smallest rumour for the demon hunters left to follow. People had to forget him as quickly as possible.

Careful, he reached back into his bag, searching for that one thing that had seemed to trigger the attack. After a moment he found it.

The exorcist's dagger. The only thing he hadn't sold, because even the blindest child would notice something off about it. It wasn't the appearance. Just… some strange feeling you got when holding it. A weird energy or something.

And because of that he was sure even an experienced fence would be hesitant to accept it. It almost made you think it was cursed.

With a sigh of relief he concluded that he could touch it without suffering another attack. Good. Otherwise even something as simple as sticking his hand in his own bag would become risky.

But seriously, what was he going to do? With his ticket he could stay on the train until it reached its final station, but what then? Buy another one? Where should he go? Where _could_ he go, being what he was?

He was an akuma. From what the exorcist said, it wasn't a question _if_ he would kill, but _when._ And as soon as he did another exorcist would come to investigate. For how long would he be able to outrun them? He didn't know _anything_ about them. Except that they were from the church and wanted him dead.

_What should I do, Mana?_

What _could_ he do?

He felt so alone. And the feeling was made worse now he knew what it was like to have someone that looked after him.

_Why? Why did I have to become an akuma?_

It hurt. It hurt so much to see kind people worried and _know_ he could never accept their help. Not without killing them in the long run.

Unless they were akuma too.

Which didn't help him a bit. He didn't know how to find or even _recognize_ other akuma. So even if he _did_ run into one, he wouldn't be able to ask for help.

He was _alone_.

And right at that moment, he really felt like crying.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Fear.

Deep, dark and mind numbing.

Coupled with a terrified anticipation that cramped his muscles and made him feel as if every heartbeat pumped freezing acid into his veins as he braced himself for the pain that would surely come.

Every second he expected another pain attack.

It was torture.

One day. It was just _one day_ since the attack on the train and the attacks had worsened to the point that they came and went with barely an hour in between _at most_.

He needed help. _Badly._

But there was no one to help him. Maybe the Millennium Earl would be able to, but he had no idea how to contact him.

Still, he was trying, because he couldn't keep the attacks hidden anymore. He was too tired to try to keep the screams in. His nerves too frayed to care about the attention it drew.

_If he can make akuma, then surely he can repair them… right?_

So during one of the short moments between attacks he went out and asked anyone, _anyone_ he met if they knew the Millennium Earl.

No one knew.

All it earned him where concerned looks, pity and a lot of disgusted sneers. They all thought he was insane. And he couldn't blame them. Why else would a so obviously poor and ill boy be looking for an _earl?_

Then, another attack wrecked his body and he barely had the strength to drag himself back to the inn where he had taken a room.

And cried.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If anyone is wondering why Allen's memory of that night in the graveyard seems to vary through time; just remember that Allen wants to forget. It hurts him a lot to remember and the only reason he does is because the nightmares keep reminding him. Which is why quite a lot of important details escape his notice.
> 
> In canon, at this point he wasn't even functioning on his own. Just read the bonus manga 'Maria's Gaze' (volume 23). There it took him all winter before he started responding to anything. Even Cross' temper tantrums couldn't drag him out of it. And seeing how Cross turned a table into firewood right in front of him, that says a lot.
> 
> The only reason he's up and moving in this story is because otherwise he'd die. And that would be boring. Very dramatic and pitiful and maybe even a good oneshot. But very boring in the long run.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Night had fallen a long time ago and the streets were quiet.

No human was awake at this hour, and the animals had taken control over the city. Rats and mice scurried around in search for food, hunted by cats and the occasional dog. Moths and other insects fluttered in the light of the lampposts, bumping against the surrounding glass in a vain attempt to reach the flames that would kill them.

From behind the window on the second floor, a small figure witnessed it all. And couldn't care less.

Moonlight glistered off water as a droplet joined the others on the window ledge.

_I'm sorry Mana…_

Another tear fell, for just a moment resembling a tiny star as it sparkled in the light falling through the window.

_I'm so sorry…_

Crying, Allen stared at the uncaring sky, tear tracks drawing glimmering trails across his face.

Another wave of pain rushed through him, and more tears streamed down his face. His grip on his left arm tightened and would have left bruises if it had been normal skin beneath his fingers. But it wasn't, and no amount of squeezing could keep the agony at bay.

_I know I promised you, Mana, I know…_

The pain receded again. Lifelessly Allen stared outside, already expecting the next attack. He breathed slowly to cherish the short reprieve.

_But I can't keep walking like this…_

Again the pain, vicious as the harshest winter storm. Draining him of life and warmth and the will to live.

_It hurts too much…_

Over and over and over, like the waves at the docks. Only these he couldn't walk away from.

_There is nothing left I can do… and this time you can't help me either…_

He hung his head and didn't bother to silence his sobs.

_I'm dying…_

He wailed and slammed his fist against the window, making it rattle in its frame. Exhaustion pulled at him and with a thud he rested his forehead against the cold glass.

He was just so tired of it all. He had failed. Failed to keep his promise to Mana. He had tried everything he could think of, but what good had it done him? The damage the exorcist had dealt was slowly killing him, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

_If only I could've reached the Earl…_

Wishful thinking. It wouldn't get him anywhere.

More tears dripped onto the window ledge. Why did death have to be this painful?

"You wished to see me, child?~"

Heart in his throat, Allen spun around.

An eerie white, inhuman grin gleamed in the dark. Light reflected from small round glasses beneath a strangely ornamented top hat. Half concealed by shadows, a frighteningly familiar figure observed him with cheerful curiosity.

_It's the same person…_

For a moment, he was back in the graveyard of his nightmares, staring up through the haze of tears at the one that offered to grant his dearest wish. Again, he felt the dizzying mix of fear and nervousness and desperate, desperate hope…

His hand trembled like crazy as he clumsily wiped his eyes.

_Please… Oh God, please let this work…_

Swallowing his nerves, Allen asked, "A-are you the Millennium Earl?"

The grin grew wider. "I am indeed.~"

Shaking, he kneeled. He didn't know how he was supposed to do this. Nothing except from stories and fairy tales. None really fit the situation. But at least it wouldn't insult the Earl. He hoped.

"Please." A small tremor in his voice. "I need your help."

Then, words gushed out like water from a broken dam. The confusion. The pain. The murders. The _attacks…_ He was desperate. So desperate for aid, for _anything_. Pleading and begging for the Earl to understand, so badly wishing to reach the one that held his life in his hands. He'd do anything, _anything_ if only he'd _help_ …

Quietly the Earl listened, golden eyes never betraying his thoughts.

Somewhere in between a new wave of pain crashed through him, turning Allen's words into rambles. Hysteria took a hold of him as the pain intensified and refused to relent. Still, the Earl did not speak.

In the end Allen's fit died out as he ran out of energy, leaving him a panting, shuddering mess at the Earl's feet. Endless moments passed before a surprisingly gentle hand was laid upon his head.

With a last desperate show of will Allen gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on the Earl's words.

"An exorcist, you say? And you kept his weapon?~"

"Yes…"

"Hmm… Give it to me."

He was almost frantic to obey. He did not think he could take another attack.

For long moments the Earl inspected the weapon. Suddenly, with a happy chuckle he patted Allen's head. "Thank you, child, you brought me a very important item.~"

Nervously Allen swallowed. "C-can you do anything about my arm? My lord," he hastily added.

The gaze with which the Earl regarded him was inscrutable. Then, as if he had reached a decision, the Earl chuckled again.

"We'll see, we'll see.~ Show me that arm then, little _akuma_.~"

Allen didn't wait for the Earl to finish his sentence before he started to wrestle with his clothes, fingers clumsy from exhaustion. Soon he had his upper body bared and offered the Earl his arm. A soul deep relief coursing through him as the Earl inspected the deformed flesh, strong enough to nearly knock him off his feet.

The Earl was here. That thought alone was enough to have him collapse right there. Allen didn't know how or why or who told the Earl where to find him. He didn't care. All that mattered was that he was here and that he was looking at his arm and that he might be able to fix it.

He almost started crying again.

_Maybe I can keep my promise…_

Then the pain struck again, and the world disappeared behind blinding stars of light and dark. With an almost inhuman effort he managed to remain upright.

Allen's teeth grinded against each other as the pain did not relent even after several minutes. It was as if the Earls touch had triggered the worst attack jet. He was sure the Earl had noticed. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably from the strain and the effort not to start screaming. He wouldn't be able to stop and he did not want to distract the Earl.

 _Please let him be able to fix this!_ he cried in his mind. _I can't take this…_

Then, when he was sure his legs could no longer take his weight, the Earl let him go. With the absence of his touch the pain receded and Allen let himself collapse, curling up as a worthless pile of misery in the Earl's looming shadow. He couldn't bring himself to care what the Earl would think. He was just so very, very _tired_.

For a moment he tensed when he felt surprisingly strong arms lift him up, but to his great relief no attack followed. His nerves had already screamed themselves hoarse and now merely shuddered in quiet knots beneath his skin. Completely limp, He allowed the Earl to take him wherever he wanted.

The last thing he noticed was an odd shadow on the floor before the world went dark.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Curious, such a curious case this child was.

When a Level Three sent him the image of a desperate boy looking for him, he had expected a normal case. He had prepared an empty akuma-vessel and had even taken the time to prepare for a potential trap – the exorcists could be such feisty little pests – but never had he expected something like _this._

He was even quite sure he knew the boy. Allen Walker, an undiscovered accommodator. _Still_ undiscovered it seemed, even after the activation of his Innocence.

And utterly convinced he was an akuma. It was almost cute.

Though from what the boy had told him, the misunderstanding was actually quite understandable. A pentacle-shaped scar, a parasitic Innocence and the casual description from an exorcist. Oh my, indeed.

And now the boy was trusting _him_ to save him from the pain his arm caused him. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that he had placed his trust in the archenemy of his kind. Though he _did_ seem to realize he was on the verge of dying.

Which was absolutely _priceless._ Though the young accommodator probably wouldn't think so. Which made it all the more amusing.

Humming the Earl carried the child off into the Ark. _Now, what to do with him?_

He could off course take the child's Innocence and kill him, but that would mean wasting a truly _exquisite_ opportunity. Never, in the thousands of years of war, had an exorcist been dropped into his grasp in such an inviting way. Oh, he could all but taste the endless possibilities.

No, he would take some time deciding. But first he had to stop the Innocence's progress. It would not do to have the child in his possession only to have him turn into a Fallen One. It would do way too much damage to his Ark, among other things.

Entering his labs`, he took care to place the child safely in one of his chairs. Better to let him sleep. A short, mumbled spell and a touch to the forehead ensured that. Picking up the blanket he normally used to keep his legs warm, he covered the child before getting to work. No use to let the little treasure fall ill.

"First, I'll have to seal that arm.~" He raised his voice. "Come, my Skulls, we've got work to do.~"

Excited, he started riffling through his old notes on Innocence, the knowledge collected centuries ago, before the Order had become such an annoyance. Leaving it to the Skulls to gather all the materials he would need.

Turning, he grabbed the broad steel bracelet they brought him, and started engraving the necessary symbols into the metal. Soon he'd have all the time needed to figure out how to end the Falling-process. But halting it wasn't that hard. He'd sealed Innocence before. All he had to do was freeze all of its activities.

Steel clasped snugly around Innocence-infused flesh. For a moment green and white energy fought to escape. Then died out, as dark matter and magic forced it into submission. That was one problem down.

_Now for the other._

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Skulls scurried, pencils scratched and paper rustled like a thousand wings flapping. It had been hours and though he now had every single detail of his old research on Innocence memorized, he hadn't be able to come up with a plausible solution yet. Though his studies had revolved around the workings of Innocence, he had never gained much notes on what happened when the Innocence choose to get rid of its accommodator. It wasn't like he had that much access to test subjects, and none of them had been in the process of Falling. All he had were observations through the eyes of nearby akuma. And those could rarely get close to an accommodator without giving in to the urge to kill.

He frowned. The main problem was his lack of knowledge on the subject. He clacked his tongue. _Then I better find a way to get it._

Humming in thought he rose from his desk. Before he went looking for a solution he first had his newest akuma to look after. The boy had to be in prime condition when he was ready to experiment on him.

Walking to where he had left the child, he gestured for a few Skulls to go fetch a couple of Level threes. Human faces would help a great deal in keeping the boy compliant. Unlike the Skull's faces, which would only serve to frighten him. And with the right orders the akuma _should_ be able to restrain themselves.

Looking down at the frail child the Earl couldn't help but feel excited. If things went well the boy might become a very interesting pawn.

Rousing the child from his forced sleep, he patted the filthy mob of hair in what hopefully was a comforting manner. Unfocused grey eyes blinked up at him, obviously confused at the sight that greeted them.

"Good morning, my dear.~"

Confusion made way for wary awareness. "G-good morning," The child mumbled back, obviously not used to being greeted like that. The Earl grinned a bit wider.

"How are you feeling?~"

Amused, he watched the boy's eyes widen as the child grabbed his left arm. Joy, amazement, and relief flashed over the child's face, the mix of emotions as blatant as the sun in a clear sky. The gratitude with which the child looked up at him had the Earl fighting to keep any emotions from his face besides gentle concern. Giggling wouldn't do any good.

It seemed the first binds of loyalty were already forming.

_Excellent._

"Does it still hurt?~"

Wordlessly the child shook his head no.

"I've halted the deterioration process, but it'll take some time to get the damage sorted out.~ The exorcist did quite a number on you.~"

Disappointment flashed, clear as day, but was quickly replaced with resignation. Such a good boy.

"H-how long?"

"Hmm, hard to tell.~ I don't work often with this kind of damage. Most of the time there isn't enough left to work with.~"

The boy shuddered.

 _Oh yes, child._ _Fear them._ Fear them and hate them, and never join their side. Oh, if only the boy knew what they'd do to him. At least the akuma got a quick death. A Falling accommodator wouldn't get away that easy.

Hmm, now he thought about it, he might just know where to find his information. Those people tended to be even more vicious towards their allies than their enemies. All in the name of the Greater Good.

_So amusing._

"There, there, my dear. Don't worry.~ Until we can fix it, it'll only feel numb. We'll get you back in shape one way or another.~"

Seeing the child's hesitant nod, the Earl patted his head again.

"Now, why don't you go and get cleaned up, hmm?~ My, you must be quite hungry.~" Beckoning to the three approaching akuma, he turned and stepped away for a moment.

' _I want you to take good care of him. He's valuable. So don't even think of killing him.'_ A silent order to the three before him, accompanied by a subtle glare to avoid all chances of a misunderstanding.

The human looking maids bowed.

"Now, my dear Allen, be a good child and go with them.~ They'll show you the baths and fetch you some dinner.~"

"O-okay." Nervous and hesitant, the child let himself be led out of the room. The Earl allowed himself a soft chuckle. Seemed like the child was already quite obedient. How nice.

With that taken care of, he returned to his Skulls. For this move he would need the aid of his infiltrators.

It was several minutes later when he was dragged from his work by the boy's screaming.

Cursing softly under his breath, the Earl connected his senses to those of the akuma in charge of taking care of the child. If they were killing him-

Surprised, he tried to make sense of what came through. No sensations that told him the akuma had transformed. No smell of blood or pain. Just a vision of the small child staring at him in horror, with the scarred eye acting so very _odd_. Twitching and shifting and-

He jumped to his feet and rushed through the corridors into the bathroom. Dress shoes clicking against the tiles, he pushed the akuma aside and knelt next to the shaking boy. Grabbing the frightened child's face, he turned it to the side to get a clear look at that strange eye. And hissed softly through his teeth.

It was cursed.

_Well, well, well… interesting._

But what did it do? Besides the obvious, changing the eye's surface into glowing rings of black and red.

"Hush, child, hush," he soothed. "Tell me what's wrong. Did something happen?~"

Still trembling, the boy gave him an incredulous look. "D-don't you see them?"

Curious the Earl lifted one brow. "See who, dear?~"

"T-those _things_ , from their back- They just suddenly appeared!"

The Earl glanced at the confused akuma. Nothing. They looked perfectly human. Looking back down, he was just in time to see the child glance at them too. And cower in fear, looking on the verge of throwing up.

_Why?_

Not wishing to prolong the child's distress, the Earl waved them out. Hopefully with them out of sight he could figure out what was wrong.

"Calm down, child. What did you see?~" he asked, gently rubbing the boy's back.

"I-I don't know. They looked like corpses but corpses don't fly or scream or-or cry or _look_ at you, a-and they were burning, and c-chained a-and, and…." The child started to cry. Absentmindedly the Earl noticed that the cursed eye was returning to normal.

"… Looked like ghosts. And they were so s-sad…," the boy mumbled between hiccups.

The Earl froze. Stared at the boy. And had to force back mad cackles when he realized exactly what the child must have seen.

Suppressing the urge to grin like a crook the Earl continued to soothe the child's fear. "Don't worry dear, don't worry.~ It seems your akuma recognition program is malfunctioning. We can fix that, so hush. You'll be alright.~"

Watery grey looked up at him. "M-my what?"

The Earl gently patted the pale mop of hair. "All akuma are able to recognize each other, but the exorcist damaged more than just your arm.~ It seems like you can't reliably identify other akuma anymore.~"

The boy looked down, clearly thinking that over. "… Oh."

The Earl chuckled. "So.~ Since you won't be able to stay with other akuma for a while, you think you can bathe yourself?~"

At that the boy turned scarlet. Gave him a disbelieving look. "O-of course! I-"

"Well, then you do that and I'll send someone else to guide you around when you're done, okay?~" the Earl interrupted him cheerfully.

Looking hesitant, the boy nodded slowly.

The Earl chuckled and patted his head again, before strolling out of the room with twinkling eyes and a grin that was suddenly way too toothy.

This? Was absolutely _hilarious._

 _What could have been the Order's greatest asset is now waiting for me to turn him into a_ real _akuma._

No longer able to hold it back, the Earl laughed.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Allen was fidgeting. He had been done with his bath for a while now, and still no one had showed up. Nervously he worried the too big sleeves of his new sweater between his fingers, the soft white wool catching on the calluses on his hands. After the Earl had left he had only seen one of the maids for a few seconds when she came to bring him his clothes. Which was real nice of her, after he almost hit her in the face when he suddenly saw those- those _things_ appear.

Hesitantly he touched his eye. The one with the scar. Again he recalled the feeling, like going cross-eyed, something writhing just out of sight, pulling at his eye, steering it. And suddenly _something else_ had slipped into focus.

He shuddered, feeling ill. He never, _ever_ wanted to see those things again.

Something tapped against the door. "Hello? Can you open the door, lero?"

Allen blinked. Did someone call just him Lero? Carefully stepping around a few spots on the floor to avoid getting his socks wet, he pulled the door open.

And stared.

"Hello. Are you Allen, lero?"

Dumbfounded he blinked. Shook his head to dislodge the image and warily looked again.

It didn't help. Right in front of him hovered a pink umbrella, the orange pumpkin head at the top looking at him with what was possibly curiosity. Though he had no idea if human emotions applied to something that had _holes_ for eyes.

"Well, aren't you going to answer, lero?"

Allen gulped. "W-why are you calling me Lero?"

The pumpkin's face changed. It managed to look surprised. "I didn't call you that. Lero just says lero because the Earl made Lero that way."

It floated a bit closer. Allen stepped back.

"Your name is Lero?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, lero. Now, are you Allen?"

Slowly Allen nodded. He wondered if he was dreaming right now, 'cause there was no way this could be real. The Earl himself was weird enough with his never fading grin, but maids with monster-ghosts in their backs and a flying umbrella that talked? If it wasn't for his past experiences with his arm, he wouldn't have believed it.

Not that he felt very inclined to believe it now either. It was just too _weird._

"The Earl told me to bring you to the dining hall. He said you would want to eat something, lero."

"… Well…" At the mere mention of food his stomach twisted, painfully empty, and growled loud enough to startle Lero. Allen felt himself redden.

"… Just follow me, lero."

Still blushing, Allen hesitated for a moment before running after his odd guide. The umbrella – Lero, he reminded himself – seemed nice enough. And he was really, really hungry.

Feet pattering against shiny black-purple tiles he soon caught up. Looking around he couldn't help but stare. It was just so _big._

The hallway seemed to stretch on for eternity, ceiling so high the light of the lanterns didn't reach it. Large, ornamented double doors with a _lot_ of space in between made him wonder how big the rooms behind them would be. And there was no one but them and the soft echoes of his covered feet.

Feeling nervous, he stepped a little closer to Lero.

"Um… Mr. Lero? Where are we exactly?"

"You can just call me Lero, Allen. And we are in Master's Ark," Lero answered, turning in mid-air to look Allen in the eye.

"Master's ark?" Allen was impressed that Lero didn't hit anything despite not being able to see where he was going. Then again, there wasn't really that much to fly into anyway.

"Yes, lero. The Ark of Noah belongs to the Millennium Earl. It's his home, lero."

Allen regarded his surroundings with a new eye. And gave Lero a weird look. " The Ark of Noah is just a story. And isn't it supposed to be a boat? This place wouldn't even fit. And it's made out of _stone!_ Everyone knows the Ark was made of wood."

Lero sputtered indignantly. "Insolent child! I'm telling the truth, lero! The Ark is vessel that contains dimensions of its own, and it is _not_ some primitive _ship_! As if a ship would have survived the Flood. Tch! Lero! The Ark of Noah is real, and it belongs to Master Earl, and you're in it, leroro."

Allen flinched and looked away. That sounded final. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you angry…"

He could hear Lero sigh and cowered. _Oh, now he was going to get it-_

"It's alright, lero, Allen. Here is the dining hall."

Hesitantly Allen glanced at the huge doors in front of him. "Here?"

"Yes." Without pausing, Lero pushed against one of the doors. It swung open without a sound. Nervously Allen followed him inside, and felt his jaw drop at what he saw.

The room was enormous. The floor looked like the surface of a giant chessboard, lightened by flying pumpkins with faces carved in their sides, not unlike Lero's head. Several yards away stood a big, round table with thirteen chairs around it. Its entire surface was loaded with food, leaving only an empty spot before one of the chairs for a plate, a set of silver cutlery, and a glass.

"Who will we be waiting for? The Earl? He looked very busy…," Allen said, looking longingly at the table. He was really, really, _really_ hungry. Hopefully they wouldn't have to wait long…

Again, Lero looked surprised. "No, you'll be eating alone, lero. Why do you ask?"

Allen shot him an incredulous look. "No way. I can't eat all of that on my own!"

Lero moved in a way that could be a shrug. "Then don't try to." Choosing a chair to settle in, he looked over the back at his young charge. "Now come, lero, before it gets cold."

Giving up on the subject, Allen joined him at the table, having some difficulty handling the heavy chair so he sat comfortably in front of his plate. Looking at the vast array of dishes feeling a bit lost at such blatant display of culinary wealth. "Where am I even supposed to _start?"_

Lero floated up to get a good view of what was available. "Well, I believe here's some soup, lero… and here a few pasties, and potatoes and salad and some kind of meat – or fish, can't really tell, lero – And here-"

Allen lifted the lid from the bowl of soup, not really paying attention to the umbrella still talking above him. It smelled very inviting. Not able to resist, he dipped his finger in the thick orange liquid to taste. It was delicious. Happily he filled his plate and dug in.

After that he had a lot of fun tasting every single dish, while Lero helped him identify exactly what he was eating whenever he didn't know. "Hey Lero," Allen asked digging through his third plate, eying the umbrella sitting next to him. Though 'sitting' wasn't exactly the right word. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"No, lero. I'm a golem. I don't need food."

"A golem? Like, some kind of akuma?" Allen asked, curious.

"No, no akuma. Akuma are intelligent weapons. That is, compared to normal weapons, lero. Believe me, many aren't as bright as you are. Especially the Level Ones. All they think about is killing, lero," Lero said disdainfully. "No, Lero is a golem. Golems can do a lot more than akuma, if they are made well, lero. And the Earl is the best. We can act as communication devices, record what is happening around us, carry information, perform basic magic- all kinds of things, lero. And we are a lot more inconspicuous."

Allen frowned thoughtfully. "The exorcist had a small machine that looked a bit like a bat."

"Yes, that would be a Black Order golem, lero. But those are just toys that can only do basic communication. Even Level Ones are smarter than them. Compared to me they're worthless, leroro." Lero said proudly, obviously considering his fellow golems pathetic junk. Allen gave him a bemused look.

Though one thing had piqued his interest. "Black order?" It sounded oddly familiar.

"Ah, yes, you wouldn't know. The Black Order is the organization that trains and supports exorcists, lero. They oppose the Master. Which is very foolish, of course, lero," the umbrella scoffed.

 _That's where I heard it before._ Allen put down his fork, fingers suddenly nerveless. "They hunt akuma, now don't they? That means- if they find me…" He felt himself tremble, just a little. "They'd kill me… right?"

"Probably," a disinterested voice replied.

Allen turned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, indeed, I never mentioned Allen meeting an akuma on his search. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. As you can see very clearly in the manga: before Road oh so lovingly stabbed his eye out, Allen had to focus before he could see the akuma’s soul. Just read the first few chapters and notice the time between seeing the akuma and the activation of his eye. Or that time in the rewinding town when an akuma stole the ticket money. Only after the eye had activated could Allen see through the disguise. And the akuma are the Earls eyes and ears. They kill, but I bet the Earl uses them to find new victims as well. And in that case Allen’s desperation would have surely caught his interest. 　
> 
> And for those wondering why Allen is Falling, remember: he killed an exorcist. On purpose. To save his own life. The only difference between Suman and Allen is that Allen didn’t know the exorcist was supposed to be his comrade. But seeing he did know the exorcist fought akuma to protect humans it still can be considered betraying the Innocence (though I’m not too sure if that’s really how Innocence thinks). 
> 
> Also, Falling is clearly a process that takes at least a couple of days to complete. After all, the Order had enough time to recover the bodies of the exorcists and finders Suman betrayed, and bring them to headquarters before Suman woke up in a Chinese village and turned into a giant flying-torso-thing. So yeah, Allen would have more than enough time to freak out – cause really, Falling can’t be pleasant – and start looking for the Earl. Which would only add to his supposed betrayal. 
> 
> And why the Earl sent Lero… for some reason most Noah appear to have a hard time taking things seriously. And the Earl wants to take this very seriously. Unfortunately for Allen, this won’t be one of those happy-little-Noah-family fics.


	5. Chapter 5

 

"Any news?"

Jonathan of the Signal Section sighed. "No, but we've gathered all the golem's recordings. We're lucky he had it activated as it is. At least now we have an idea of what happened. Not that it's of much use," he grumbled. Sighed again. "Do you want to hear it now?"

"If it isn't too much trouble."

Jonathan snorted. "No, but I warn you, these are." He gestured to the waiting tapes.

Chief Komui nodded. Sadness in his eyes and a weary sigh rushing from his lips as he accepted the headphones.

The member of the Signal Section finished setting up the equipment and started the first tape. Leaned back, knowing this was going to take a while. Gunde's search had taken almost three weeks, even though only the last couple of days had been relevant.

The last days of an exorcist's life, every single word caught on tape. Which he really shouldn't be thinking about without a hell of a drink at hand. He sighed and concentrated on his boss' face. Having been the one to _make_ this particular record, he knew from his chief's expressions exactly which part he was listening to. Watching, his mind effortlessly recalled what the chief was hearing right now.

It had started with Gunde describing the child he'd been tracking, followed by a warning to the Signal Section to pay attention, as he was about to confront the boy. Knowing full well it might not be a boy anymore. From the conversation that followed, Jonathan had concluded it wasn't an akuma. That is, until the peaceful conversation had abruptly ended with a pained grunt and gurgling coughs. And silence. And seeing the shock and grief on chief Komui's face, he felt the same as Jonathan had back then, when he realized he had just heard someone die.

After that it had been quiet on the other end, if you didn't count the sounds of rummaging, cursing and of someone moving. If he had to guess the boy, Allen, had plundered Gunde's corpse, taking his golem with him.

The chief's face reflected the same sorrow he felt. If Gunde had died fighting akuma they would have been able to accept that. Most exorcists met their end that way. But to know he'd died because a kid had been too frightened to give him a chance…

And Allen had _been_ a frightened child. Jonathan still remembered listening to those quiet sobs and whispered apologies, broken by hiccups, not even a full hour after Gunde's death. The anger he had felt for the young thief had slowly melted away as the kid cried himself to sleep somewhere many miles away. The burning rage being replaced by an aching sadness. And thinking rationally, could he really blame the kid for stealing? No. For a poor waif it would have been stupid to let the chance to make life a bit easier go.

And knowing what scum tended to haunt the streets at night, especially in big cities, he couldn't really blame the kid for killing either. He knew enough stories to have an idea of what went on in such lawless alleys. And the kid lived there. Allen probably knew from _experience_ exactly how dangerous such a situation could be.

Jonathan nodded to himself. It was important to remember that. Very important. It helped him keep the fury at bay.

Still, they couldn't afford a loss like this. Exorcists were hard to come by.

Turning, he looked at the hunched back of the chief. The younger man was probably telling himself the same.

After endless moments of silence, Komui put the headphones down. And sighed dejected, before straightening. "… Well… that was interesting." A bleak smile. "The full record now, if you please."

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Surprised grey stared into frigid gold. In the door stood a willowy girl maybe a few years older than him. Clothes of unusual design but neat and of good enough quality to suit a noble. Her tanned skin seemed oddly grey in the light of the carved pumpkins, and on her forehead he counted seven thin black crosses.

He blinked, feeling nervous. "Excuse me, but are you an akuma too?"

The girl, who had been studying him just as intensely, returned her gaze to his. Cold now replaced by interest, like a bored cat that had stumbled upon a new toy. She smiled, not entirely harmless.

"Who, me?" the girl giggled, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to jump to their feet.

"Of course not," the girl said. Peered at him from under her lashes. "Are you saying you are?"

Allen paled. Instincts honed by years on the streets screaming _Danger! Danger, run!-_ The girl squealed before he could.

"Ah, Lero, there you are!~"

"No, Mistress Road, don't-!"

Allen blinked, baffled, as the girl grabbed Lero's handle and spun him around, fast enough to make him scream his little pumpkin head off. She laughed. "Lero, I missed you!~ Lets go play!"

"No, no, no! Master Earl gave Lero a job to do! Let me go, lerororooo-!"

Quietly Allen slipped out of his chair, keeping an eye on the quarrelling pair as he tried to make it to the door unnoticed. He spared a short moment of pity for Lero, who obviously did not enjoy the attention _at all_ , before he hurried to leave. Somehow, he had the feeling he didn't want to be caught by the girl-

His plan died a swift death as he suddenly found the sharp point on top of Lero's head way too close to his face for comfort. Hastily he backed up.

"A job? You mean this one? What's so special about him that _you_ are watching him?" the girl asked, eying Allen as if she was trying to imagine what he would do if she actually stabbed him. Allen shivered, nerves yelping at the hints of a smirk playing around her lips.

"He's an akuma. And the Earl is really interested in him, lero," the umbrella said firmly.

"Hmm, is that so…." The girl tilted her head, piercing eyes studying him very carefully. Her eyes landed on his left. Too late, Allen thought of hiding his hand. Her slender hand was frighteningly strong as she gripped his wrist to bring the disfigured appendage to the light.

"Well, well, well… Now what have we here?" she hissed softly through her teeth, eyes shooting daggers at the black cross-shaped scar on the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry! Please, I know it's- Could you please let go, miss?" Allen pleaded. The girl ignored him, addressing the once again flying umbrella instead. "Lero, what's the meaning of this?"

"Ah, well," Lero hesitated, seeming to choose his next words very carefully. "An exorcist did a lot of damage, lero, and the Earl is going to repair him, Mistress Road."

For some long moments Road studied them both, making Allen break out in nervous sweat. "… I see."

Then she abruptly turned on her heel and left for the door. Stunned, Allen watched her walk away.

"Well, since you decided to be boring, I guess I can leave you to your little task. But next time, you better come play!" she threw over her shoulder, before disappearing into the hallway.

He and Lero shared a look. Allen's was very uncomfortable.

"Well," he managed at last. "That was weird."

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

The Earl was humming again, knitting his time away. Until his informants called he could not continue on his little project. Annoying, but it was vital that he would be as prepared as possible. Only one chance and all that.

Soft footsteps behind him. The Earl sighed. "What is it?~"

"Forgive me my intrusion, but what do you wish us to do with the piece of Innocence, Master?" the Skull asked apologetically, kneeling at a respectful distance.

The Earl's knitting needles stilled. Oh. In his excitement he had forgotten about the Innocence his new pet had brought him. Absentmindedly he stared at one of the candles close to him. _What to do with it indeed._

His grin widened. "Bring it to my labs.~ Prepare for full experimentation.~"

As the Skull bowed and hurried away, the Earl started to whistle. It had been a while since his scientist-side had gotten a challenge, which Innocence surely would prove to be. A thought struck him and he paused, before continuing with even more cheer than before. No matter how deep his informants delved into the Order's archives, he was sure they wouldn't find experiments with Innocence and Dark Matter combined. But now he had a perfect opportunity to try his hand at them himself, _before_ he would have to start on Allen.

His grin widened. _I should get myself some live test subjects as well._ And he knew exactly who he should ask for that.

A door slammed open. He suppressed a chuckle.

_Excellent timing._

"Early,~ why is there an exorcist in the dining hall saying he's an akuma?~"

Turning, the Earl smiled. "Good to see you too, my dear.~"

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Allen sat on the couch in the middle of darkness, shadows leaving just a couple of feet around untouched, chased off by the light of a single pumpkin-lantern seated beside him. He knew that somewhere in that darkness was a door, but from here one wouldn't be able to tell. Kicking his feet back and forth he tried to stave off the darkness in his heart, knowing it would only bring him pain.

He knew Lero was shooting him concerned glances whenever he thought he wasn't looking, but he didn't feel like talking.

He bit his lip, trying to suppress the whispers in his mind. There was a reason why he had always kept himself busy. Worrying about when your next meal was kept you from worrying about  _other_ things. But he no longer had that luxury.

Already, he had almost lost it in the bathroom, as peace and quiet dredged up the demons. But back then he still had the gnawing hunger to worry about, and the fear of facing other akuma. Now he was clean, warm, fed and _safe_. And Lero had assured him no one would bother them, and that they'd only have to go when the Earl called.

_Please let the Earl call…_

Hell, he'd even take that scary girl, Road. _Anything_ was better than this. But no such luck.

_Figures._

Slowly, he could feel himself breaking, cracks appearing in the walls he'd built to lock himself inside that little bit of the world that had almost convinced him there had never been a person called Mana Walker. That had almost convinced him things had never changed and he had never been anyone else but Allen the Street Rat.

 _No, no, no…_ Inside his mind, Allen whimpered, trying to hold the broken shards of his self together. But he couldn't, and through the cracks he could _feel_ all the things he'd tried to deny oozing out to devour him.

' _You killed Mana-'_

' _Murderer!'_

' _-Monster! We know what you are-'_

' _Akuma are very dangerous, capable of killing someone in a single blow, and unfortunately they are very difficult to find as well, because they look exactly like humans when they wear their disguise-'_

' _Ah, my dear akuma.~ Go ahead and kill him-'_

He screamed then, trying to override the voices in his head with his own. He probably scared the hell out of Lero, but he couldn't care, not now, not when he was coming apart at the seams, tearing like paper in storm winds, weakened by endless rains of tears and agony, shredded by the howling gale and it _hurt-_

' _Monster!'_

' _You killed Mana!'_

' _Demon!'_

' _Akuma are very dangerous-'_

Sobs tore at his throat. Somewhere in the distance he could hear Lero panicking.

' _They look exactly like humans-'_

 _No they don't_ , he thought. And drowned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Signal Section: like the Science Section it’s one of the seven departments within the Order. It is in charge of all communications between exorcists, finders, and the Order. (volume 5)
> 
> My apologies about the shorter chapter, but it just seemed a perfect way to end it. Hopefully the next will be a bit longer.
> 
> Someone asked if I didn’t make Allen too willing. I kindly ask you to consider exactly how long he has been awake after a seriously traumatic event. And by ‘traumatic event’ I mean narrowly escaping death by exorcist (never mind that Gunde hadn’t intended to kill him; Allen thought he did) and then suffering through some serious physical torture caused by Falling. Ever since the Earl dragged him off he has been asleep until he was send off to clean up and get some food in him. Which, oh, maybe counts up to three hours in the waking world. During most of that time he was either too busy seeing to his basic needs or way too lost in 'what the hell did I get in to?' to have really have time to freak out. Put that together with the fact that he still desperately tries to keep a mask of sanity around him… You decide whether or not you will call that willing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own D. gray-man.

" _Did you find the right location?"_

"We did, but it is as you feared. There are no leads. The shopkeeper couldn't tell us much that we didn't already know." Noise Marie said, ignoring the fuming ball of black-haired irritation next to him. Not that he couldn't relate. A mission like this shouldn't require two exorcists. Gunde's death had made Komui a bit too wary of the area.

" _Stay alert. There's still a small chance the boy is an akuma, and he's clever enough to trick an exorcist. A Level Two or a Level Three, though considering the displayed self-control I'd guess the latter-"_

Kanda scoffed. " _Or_ he's just a kid that got lucky. Barbro was an idiot, getting himself killed. That kid won't stand a chance against _us_."

A sad laugh on the other end. _"All too possible, of course. But Allen took Gunde's Innocence with him, yet didn't sell it. To our knowledge that is. If he were an akuma that would make sense, so-"_

"So we'll just cut the kid open to see if he got metal bones. Got it."

Marie sighed. "Kanda-"

" _No!"_ Came the horrified shout over the phone. _"You know why Gunde was investigating him in the first place. He might be an accommodator!"_

"Then what do you want us to do!? Invite him for tea?" The young teen exploded. "Make up your mind!" Muttering curses under his breath he turned away.

Marie pinched the bridge of his nose. "My apologies chief-"

" _No, it's alright."_ Komui interrupted quietly. _"It's a delicate situation. Just be careful."_

Marie smiled faintly. "We will be, Komui."

Kanda just huffed.

" _Oh, and the Earl is on the move again. We don't know what he's up to yet, so keep an eye out for rumors."_

"What happened?" Kanda growled.

" _There have been some disappearances."_

He snorted. Whatever it was, they could handle it. "People disappear all the time."

" _Not like this. And we lost contact with Musim Gugur. I don't think you ever met him. He was an exorcist from Java and mainly active in those regions and in Asia. We don't know whether it's just a defect golem or if the Earl had a hand in this, but-"_

Had Kanda been able to set fire with his glare, the telephone would have been ashes. "That's on the other side of the world."

" _The Earl can go from China to England in a single night. You know that Kanda."_ Komui said reproachfully.

Kanda scoffed and walked away. Marie sighed.

" _Did he leave? You better follow him, Marie, before he glares someone to death."_ Komui said, sounding just a bit amused with Kanda's explosive temper. More so because he wouldn't have to deal with it.

Marie fondly shook his head as he finished the call. He might be odd, but at least the chief cared. Which was more than most higher ups were willing to do. Listening to the echoes of his footsteps, he effortlessly found the door. Kanda was waiting for him outside.

"You could be a bit more polite to the chief, you know."

Kanda just glared ahead. "I'll consider when that curly haired idiot quits acting crazy over his sister."

The blind exorcist smiled. Fat chance that. "Time to continue searching then?"

Grumpily put out, the young teen nodded.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

The Earl frowned. It had been several day's since Allen went unconscious – after going insane, according to Lero – and still the child hadn't woken. Road silencing the nightmares had only served to make the boy's sleep more restful, and increased the chances of him waking naturally from it. Which was good, he admitted. Sleep aided the mind's recovery, as long as it wasn't plagued by nightmares. It was the mind's way of processing information without a consciousness freaking out over it all the time. But the time it took the child was stretching his patience and had him worried their hard work had been for naught.

He would really, really _hate_ to lose the centerpiece of his new project. Especially since he had discovered something truly intriguing about the boy's curse. Even now he had a hard time believing what his senses told him, but that didn't change the fact that he _knew_ that unique style.

It just didn't make sense yet.

That man. His apprentice. An insane genius. So bright he outshone the sun, yet utterly mad and way more dangerous than the Order could ever be. Seeing that, _knowing_ that, the Earl hadn't been able to resist cultivating that twisted brilliance.

 _Yet the child's caretaker's name had been_ Mana.

Mana Campbell had been dead and ashes for more than thirty years and his execution had driven his brother to despair, causing him to disappear from the face of the earth.

But the name on the grave had been Mana _Walker._

The Earl shook his head. All this time he had believed his apprentice lost, yet before him laid the proof that until a couple of months ago, he had been _wrong_.

_I wonder what you've been up to all that time?_

No way to tell, unfortunately. Unintentionally the young man had always managed to ward off any attempt at understanding him. He hadn't _tried_ to be contradicting or unpredictable, no, he just hadn't understood other people. _At all._

But he had loved his brother, and that love had shattered him when he unwittingly caused his sibling's death. Pity.

Absentmindedly the Earl ran a finger over the child's scar. _Such a lovely piece of work, my apprentice._

Very complex and sadly unreadable because his apprentice had used his own cryptic spell-designs, which were as inscrutable as he himself had been. Yet the Earl had developed a strong intuition regarding his student. _What else did you give him, besides the gift of Sight?_

His musings were interrupted when the doors banged open.

"Oh, Earl,~" Road sing-songed happily, hugging him around his neck. "I got what you wanted.~ Shall I dump the ordered goods in the dungeons or in the labs?"

The Earl smiled at her. "Well done my dear. Would you please put them in the lab cages for me?~"

She giggled and skipped away.

"Oh, and Earl?" She called over her shoulder. "You owe me a year supply of candy now! Don't forget it!"

The Earl chuckled. "Of course Road.~"

She threw back a grin, before disappearing into the corridor.

Excited to start his experiments, he tucked in the sleeping Allen, after which he followed Road.

Hopefully the child would be fine soon.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

When Allen woke he wasn't really sure where he was. Behind his eyes flashed the remnant images from the weirdest dream he ever remembered having.

_Weird maids, flying umbrella's, dangerous girls- Seriously, did I hit my head or-_

Then he noticed his surroundings.

… _Oh._

Numbly he stared at his hands. They were shaking. A deep shuddering breath. _I'm_ not _gonna cry._

Tough talk. His eyes were already blurring.

_Mana, the world doesn't make sense anymore…_

Curling up he hid his face behind his knees, arms around them to block out the light. _I miss you._

He did not know how long he sat there, and he didn't really care. It could have been hours. There was nothing in the room to indicate the passing of time, except he his own heartbeat. And it was not like he had been paying attention enough to count.

Finally he raised his head, resting his chin on his arms, absentmindedly taking in the room. It was the most luxurious room he'd ever seen. The bed he sat on was soft and warm and covered with thick blankets. A beautifully carved wooden closet in one corner, a big leather chair in another. A elegant glass table next to it, bearing the weight of a couple of books. A big leadlight lamp filled the room with gentle glow, making the room feel friendly and inviting. Soft rugs with curling patterns on polished marble tiles. Expensive wallpaper and what was probably priceless art on the walls. The only thing missing to complete the picture of a nobleman's bedroom was a large window looking out over an immaculate garden. Not that he really knew what a nobleman's bedroom looked like.

_Am I still in the Ark?_

He noticed he was wearing a deep blue, long-sleeved shirt. One he didn't recognize. For a moment he tried to get upset at the thought of someone changing his clothes, but he was just too wrung out to fret. Numbly he ran his fingers over the fabric. They touched something metal underneath. He pulled up his sleeve, as always trying not to let the sight of his arm get to him.

He had noticed the bracelet before of course. It had been quite a nice distraction in the baths when he had to wait for Lero, despite him feeling too distraught to really commit it to memory. But even if his eyes still blurred with tears at odd times, he could manage more focus now.

The metal was shiny and smooth to the touch, the engravings beautifully intricate. For a while he tried to amuse himself by trying to guess which language it could be, but it wasn't much of a game. He knew no language but his own, and even that he could barely read. Mana hadn't really had the time to teach him.

For once the thought wasn't painful. Instead he just felt a suffocating sadness.

"You would never approve of this, now would you?" He whispered to the silence. _Even if you loved me._

Mana wouldn't love his killer. He'd have to be insane if he did.

"And he might have been weird, but he wasn't insane." They wouldn't have managed as well as they had otherwise.

Thinking of him was painful again. He had hoped for numbness. Tears rolled down his face. "You won't let me forget, now will you?"

He took a shuddering breath. Tired, so tired. "Don't worry Mana, I won't. I promise." _I won't forget I'm a monster. A murderer._

_I won't forget that even you would turn away from me had you lived to see what I've become._

He almost cried again. "I'm sorry Mana. You told me to keep walking. But the path of an akuma is all I have left." Somewhere deep down he had hoped the exorcist had been wrong. _Do you still want me not to stop? Or…_

Tears fell. He had promised. He wouldn't stop. Not until Mana would tell him he could.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

When the Earl called Wisely to him, Wisely was intrigued. Road had hinted at something unusual going on, and Road did not consider something unusual easily. Turned out she was right.

"… An exorcist, you say." For a moment he considered giving in to the urge to just read the Earls thoughts, no matter much trouble it would cause him.

 _No, bad idea, be patient,_  he told to himself. But oh, it was tempting. Just what could have caused an _exorcist_ to end up _here_?

Hopefully he would find out soon, or he might just do something stupid after all. And Road giggling behind him didn't help matters.

The Earl was grinning at him. That's to say, grinning wider than usual. "Indeed.~"

Wisely stared intensely at him. _Not going to read his mind, no,_ not _going to-_

Took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. " _How?_ "

"Ah, now that's an interesting story indeed,~" The Earl chuckled.

Some time later Wisely had to agree. An exorcist. Who believed he was an akuma. Who, if they planned things right, would be loyal to _the Earl._ Not humans. Not the Order. Just the look on their faces would be worth it.

He smirked. "When do I begin?"

The Earl checked something. "Now.~ He has just woken up.~"

Wisely glanced at Road. "I assume you want us working together." It wasn't a question, exactly. The Earl answered anyway.

"Indeed.~"

"Heh," He answered Road's conspiring grin. "Might be fun."

When the two of them reached the exorcist's room they both took a moment to reach for the mind inside. Wisely blinked. The kid's thoughts were a tangled mess of self-loathing, fear, and someone so precious he'd dedicate himself to endless misery for him.

' _Ah. That Mana again,'_ he commented mentally.

A secretive smile from Road. _'So it seems.'_

He answered with a small smirk. Time to see how much they could figure out then.

Opening the door he quickly located the boy. Lingered for a moment while Road skipped to the startled child's side. Seemed like she had been more interested than she'd let on. Heh. Poor thing.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

The soft click from the door had Allen nearly jumping out of his skin. For a moment he froze, seeing who was entering.

 _Oh shit, it's that scary girl again-_ but then he got distracted by her companion. He couldn't help but stare, even when Road jumped next to him on the bed.

 _He has white hair too…_ White hair and the weirdest thing he'd ever seen on his forehead. And part of the thing _moved_.

_Are those… eyes…?_

"What are you?" He blurted without thinking. And cringed in fear of retaliation.

The older male just smiled enigmatically. "A Noah," He pointed at Road. "As she is. I am Wisely of the Demon Eyes, the Noah of Wisdom." Another smile. "You may call me Master Wisely."

Allen blinked. Felt Road's hands on his shoulders as she leaned against his back. "I never properly introduced myself, now did I?" She giggled in his ear. "My name is Road and I am the Noah of Dreams. You may call me Mistress Road.~"

… _Huh?_

The confusion must have shown on his face, because both were snickering.

"The Millennium Earl is our brethren. He grants us absolute authority over all his akuma." Twin smirks. "Which includes _you_."

Allen swallowed. As if they heard his panicked thoughts, both smirks widened. Road petted his hair as if he were a dog.

"Don't worry, A~llen," Road soothed, which was ruined by the laugh in her voice, "We'll take _good care_ of you.~"

 _Why does that sound more like a threat?_ Allen thought glumly.

Wisely laughed.

Allen attempted a glare. It didn't make much of an impression.

He sighed, sullen, but was deep down relieved. In the company of the Noah the past became distant. Probably because they made the hairs on the back of his neck jumpy. Twitchy nerves or not, they were almost _nice_. Especially considering that apparently they owned him as much as the Earl did.

_So why are they?_

Looking into the calculating gold of Wisely's eyes, not knowing the answer made him very worried. If there was one thing the circus taught him, it was that those with authority were _never_ nice just for the hell of it _._

Ulterior motives. He hated them.

… And why was the white haired Noah _looking_ at him like that?

"You're probably wondering why we are here." Wisely drawled lazily.

Hesitantly, Allen nodded. Road answered him.

"We were curious about something, you see." The innocent smile belied the look in her eyes. "Who is this Mana?"

The question came like a punch in the gut, knocking all the air out of him. Allen swallowed. Closed his eyes and forced himself to speak, already knowing they wouldn't allow him to refuse. "Mana… was my adoptive father. H-he-" Allen bit his lip. "I killed him, when I became an akuma…" Buried his face in his arms, not wanting to see the look on their faces. They wouldn't understand. His voice cracked. "He probably hates me now…"

"Really? That's not what _he_ said." A gentle whisper in his ear, sweet as poisoned candy.

Baffled, he raised his head. "W-what?"

Two impish grins. And Road leaving the room in a hurry. Confused and still hurting, Allen turned to Wisely. "What are you talking about…?"

Wisely just smiled. A few minutes later Road returned, dragging Lero with her. Now Allen really didn't get it anymore. "… Why did you get Lero?" He asked between the umbrella's muttered complains. Road smirked.

"Lero told you something about his abilities, now did he not? Do you want to hear what dear old Mana said to you just before you destroyed him?" She asked sweetly.

Allen's eyes widened and he paled. "N-no! No, please-"

She allowed him no choice and quickly locked him in a choke-hold. He struggled and tried to throw her off. Wisely watched amused.

" _Sit still."_

Something sharp pressed against Allen's throat. He obeyed, whimpering in fear at the sight of a deadly candle. Tried politeness instead, praying it would work. "Mistress Road, please don't do this-"

She ignored him. "Lero, play the record."

Allen squeezed his eyes shut when the ghostly image of the graveyard appeared from the umbrella's mouth. He started to sob when he realized he was still forced to listen. _No, I don't want to hear-_

" _Allen… I… love you. Please destroy me."_

Allen screamed and tears were rolling down his cheeks. "He would never agree with me becoming an akuma!"

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure if I were you. He gave you that scar, Now didn't he?" Road said nonchalantly, as if she was restraining a newborn kitten instead of a boy near her own age.

A wet glare. Then Allen bowed his head again, defeated. Gave a small nod.

"It has the symbol of the akuma." She explained.

Allen frowned . "No, that's- the star is not part of the scar. It's part of being an akuma..." He went silent, seeing the girl shake her head.

"You're wrong." Wisely said, sounding a bit bored. "An akuma hides the mark beneath his human skin. Yours however, remains in place even when you're not transformed."

Allen blinked, gobsmacked. "Huh?"

Wisely smirked. "That scar is proof that this is, in fact, exactly what Mana wanted for you."

For a moment Allen just stared. His breath hitched. "Y-you're joking."

Both Noah shook their head, amused. Allen buried his face in his arms, breathing heavily.

Road giggled and leaned forward to pet his head. "You're cute like this.~"

Allen was too much a mess to feel insulted. _Mana wanted- he would- H-he_ wouldn't _hate me_... Tears escaped without his consent.

"Aw, are you that happy?~" The girl cooed.

For a long moment he didn't – couldn't – react. Finally he lifted his head to look into laughing gold. Road's grin showed too much teeth. Probably the Earl's influence. He gave her a watery smile back.

"Well, now that is taken care of..." Wisely rose and sauntered towards the door.

"W-wait," Allen tried to wipe away his tears. Something was bothering him. "Can I ask you something?"

Wisely shrugged and Road chirped, "Sure."

"Why are you so nice to me? The exorcist said akuma are just weapons..."

The two Noah shot each other a look. Road smirked, gold eyes twinkling like razor steel. "Why wouldn't we? You're special.~" She giggled at his confusion. "Most akuma get killed when meeting an exorcist. But you killed _him_ instead. That's rare, especially for a newborn like you. And what's even better, is that you killed him by being smart." An innocent look. "Good weapons should be taken good care of, don't you think?"

With that the Noah left the room, leaving him to deal with the havoc in his head.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

They walked in on a woman screaming inside a big transparent cabin, writhing and crying and swearing while pressing something to her stomach, apparently trying to force it to merge with the bleeding flesh. The bright, pale green glow betrayed what it was. The Earl was humming while he watched, surrounded by about a dozen of Skulls taking notes.

Calmly they took place at his sides. They knew better than to interrupt now. And it would be over soon. The woman was visibly weakening.

Finally, she collapsed. Silence stretched between them. The Earl stopped humming. Smiled at them. "How did it go?~"

Road shot him a confident smirk. "I think we got him."

Wisely gave the Earl a curious glance. "Why is she trying to synchronize?" He gestured to the nameless woman.

The Earl chuckled. "To spare her children a similar fate. Or so she believes. In reality she's trying become a Fallen."

"Ah…"

Picking up on Wisely's discomfort, Road giggled. "She won't destroy the Ark. The Earl took precautions.~"

Wisely smiled a little. "I suppose I should have known."

"Indeed,~" The Earl grinned a bit wider. "Now, be a dear and help me with something, okay?~"

Curiosity piqued, Wisely nodded.

With an obvious bounce in his step he led to two to one of the smaller rooms of his vast laboratory. It held a single cage, containing a chained man wearing a notorious uniform, his chest bared to display the green glowing cross between his collarbones, betraying the presence of Innocence. The man was barely conscious.

"Road was very considerate and got me a parasitic one.~" The Earl said cheerfully, as Wisely took a closer look. Road smiled sweetly. Then the Earl got more serious. "I want the two of you to do some digging.~ A very important part of the experiment depends on his… _cooperation_.~"

More instructions were not needed. The two Noah smirked. "As you wish, Lord Millennium."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Musim Gugur’ is Javan for ‘Autumn’. ‘Gugur’ is a word used for the falling of leaves, but also for the dying of soldiers during war. It fits almost too well.
> 
> I’ve always thought it to be odd that Mana could create a curse like that, even if he was the 14th brother. So since this is going to be AU anyway, I took the liberty to forge my own explanation. 
> 
> I don’t know much about Wisely’s personality, but from what we see from him in the manga, he loves to stick his nose into things and he seems to enjoy teasing people. Somehow I think he’d also appreciate a prank. And he doesn’t have mercy for those that become his toys. Or, as he said: “We’re Noah. We’ll show no mercy to the likes of you.” Oh yes. That fits so well. And not only him.
> 
> And yes, they’re manipulating. Heavily. Noah love mind games. Road is earning so much candy. 
> 
> Before anyone asks: no, I don’t hate my OCs. It’s just that I needed cannon fodder. Yes, you may pity them. Though I’m a bit worried how I portrayed Allen. Is he still believable?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At risk of sounding tetchy: it's annoying when you ask a question and nobody answers. Seriously people, it's bothering me. It's hard to judge for yourself whether or not a character is still believable. 
> 
> Sigh. Well, since nobody's telling me anything: here goes nothing.

Standing before the bathroom mirror, Allen touched his scar.

 _Mana made this. Mana_ wanted _me to be an akuma._

Ever since the Noah had left, he hadn't been able to quit thinking about it. It seemed so wrong, but scrutinizing everything he remembered, it didn't actually _feel_ wrong.

Mana had never seemed the kind of person that would want his adoptive son to be a murderer. But then again, he also had never seemed the kind that _didn't_. It was so weird thinking of Mana like that, but- He hadn't taken revenge on Kojimo for killing his dog, but he had _also_ never scolded Allen for stealing or getting into fights. Mana had just treated the cuts and bruises and told him to be more careful. Not _once_ had he told him he shouldn't do it.

Mana hadn't been a violent man. But now Allen had thought about it, he'd also never been bothered by those who _were_.

And then there was that one incident, when some stupid drunkard had believed an old clown and his son easy prey. That was when Allen had learned why it was best to juggle with _real_ knives.

A great weight disappeared from his shoulders. Mana had been nice and kind and caring, but also unperturbed in the face of cruelty, as long as it wasn't directed at them. Maybe the Noah were right. Maybe Mana _would_ be okay with this.

With a lightness he hadn't felt in months, he turned his back to his mirror-image.

Leaving the bathroom, he reentered the bedroom he occupied for the time being. Forcing himself to examine every single one of his memories of his foster father had brought him more than just a new way to look at him. It had left him with a longing for the simple happiness he had felt back then.

A bit of exploring yielded him the books from the table, a glass pitcher, three clothes hangers, a deck of playing cards and a piece of soap from the bathroom.

After so long, juggling this many unusual items wasn't easy, especially because his deformed arm felt stiff and heavy and wasn't nearly as nimble as it used to be. But the exercise still brought a smile to his face and a mourning sadness to his heart as he recalled how proud Mana had been when he'd managed something similar for the first time.

 _Bittersweet, Mana would have called this._ Because it hurt, and eased the pain at the same time.

These last months it had been as if he'd been walking the tightrope, only without a net beneath to catch him. Shrouded in a darkness he refused to look at, he'd wobbled and fought to keep his balance and almost-slipped too many times to count, as he had when Mana had him walk it for the first time. And sometimes, when the night was especially dark and he could hear the gangs roam below, he'd wondered if, maybe, he should just let himself fall-

'Slowly exhale. Keep your breathing calm. Keep your eyes on the items.' It was over now. The worst at least. Despite the dark he'd reached the narrow platform on the other side, and though slipping was still very much an option, now he at least had something to hold on to. And maybe, just maybe, there'd be a rope ladder beneath leading down to safer ground.

A sigh. The most pressing worry now were the Noah. They made him nervous, and not in a good way. More like how Kojimo had when he'd seen him the first time. Even in full clown costume, there had been something in the man's eyes that had spoken of carefully concealed cruelty. Though the Noah were far better at disguising it as something more innocent. But then again, the Noah didn't seem like the kind of people that would beat up kids behind the animal cages when everyone was sleeping. He didn't think he'd really met their kind before.

He scowled. Maybe he would be allowed to return the favor once he'd been… repaired. God, that still sounded weird! But if the exorcist had spoken the truth revenge wouldn't even leave a trace if he was careful. It would serve the damn bastard right.

But the Noah were a problem. Could he trust them? _Would_ he trust them, assuming he'd have a choice?

Indecisive he stared at the ceiling, letting the items land on the bed. Mana had died in an accident, taking all sense of safety and happiness with him. _Fact._ The Earl had offered to bring him back, and with shameful naivety born from desperation he'd had accepted. _Fact._ After the accident he hadn't had a goal. Only the vague, compelling wish to see Mana again. However, after his brush with the Earl, he'd been desperate to pick up his old life – his life _before_ he had met the clown – and forget everything that'd happened.

… _Fact._

Meaning if it hadn't been for the Earl he might have… given up. And that, he was sure, _wouldn't_ have been what Mana would have wanted.

And now… Now he stood at the beginning of a new road. One Mana might have approved of.

_So what should I do?_

A soft _ha_. It wasn't really a question.

"Keep walking." No matter where it would lead him. He'd promised.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

"What do you mean, 'I'm not sure'? You either recognize him or you don't!"

Marie sighed. He should have known it was a bad idea to let Kanda do the questioning. From Gunde's golem, they'd managed to recover some footage, but the images weren't very clear. The finders hadn't been sure whether or not they'd be useful at all.

_Not that there was much of a choice. No one would have taken me seriously if I'd happened to hold it upside down._

Instead he'd tried to listen if he could hear them lying and attempted to keep Kanda's hostility-levels at a minimum. In vain. Kanda's growling threats made it very difficult to listen to the subtle changes in heart rate.

He hid a flinch as he heard Kanda quite literally shove the photo in the poor bastard's face. And sighed. Truly, he loved Kanda as his little brother, and after all the kid had been through no one could blame him for his violent temper, and he knew no matter how difficult the battle, the young teen would have his back-

… But sometimes he just couldn't help but feel the urge to shake the brat until his teeth rattled. They were trying to get information, not new enemies. Though from the disturbed murmurs of the onlookers, most wouldn't believe that.

_Then again, there is very little about an exorcist's life they would believe without some first-hand experience._

From time to time, the loneliness of being what they were struck him without warning, like it did now. Mournfully he listened, feeling the vast distance between his and their realities almost like a physical abyss between them. Maybe, if he hadn't become an exorcist-

"Let's go, we're wasting time here!"

Ah, yes. Melancholy rapidly fleeing in the face of Kanda's temper, Marie couldn't help but smile. Good thing about Kanda: it was hard to stay depressed when you were busy trying to keep him from maiming something. Or someone. Right now he was definitely angry enough for either.

"So," He said, ignoring the irritated fuming with practiced ease. "Where next?"

The growling quieted a little. "… The station," Kanda answered, sourly.

Hmm. "You believe he's left the city?" Not a bad idea that. It was all too possible. Especially because the kid knew Gunde had been part of an organization. And no one in the docks seemed to have seen him, so he probably didn't leave on a ship. Train would be a good choice for travel, if he didn't go by foot.

_Waif. Probably never been outside this city. Probably not stupid enough to think he can survive on the countryside._

If he was… well, they'd have a damn hard time finding him. And the moment they would Kanda would tear the poor boy's head off in revenge.

Listening to the grumpy strides beside him, Marie sighed. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. He'd rather not explain to the higher-ups why Kanda killed a potential accommodator.

… Not that he believed Kanda would actually be that irresponsible. But whatever he'd do to the boy, it wouldn't be pretty.

_And the kid already killed an exorcist once._

Which was probably why Komui choose Kanda, despite the temper. A knife to the throat would only be a temporary problem.

He never liked thinking about that. He really didn't. Kanda might be as snarly as a bad tempered cat with its tail stepped on, but he was a _kid_. A young teen, that had seen way too much already. _Suffered_ too much, and despite everything was still sane.

And the boy they were looking for lived on the streets. Being forced to listen to everything that went on at night every time he couldn't sleep, Marie prayed the boy had escaped the worst of it. If not, well… kid's psychological damage might very well rival Kanda's. Some of the things happening out there made him wonder whether or not the Earl might have a point wanting to annihilate all humans. The kind of things some people would inflict on others, simply because they _could_ -

_Like the Vatican, encouraging inhuman experiments on their own allies. And the Order, who carried them out._

Of course. Akuma had to be destroyed. The Earl had to be stopped. But the victory would be empty, if it was achieved by betraying everything they fought for.

 _Now, if the Earl only wanted the_ Black Order _destroyed…_

But the Earl didn't, and for the sake of his fellow humans, he had to abide the Order's wishes. Even if some of those fellow humans did not deserve to be called that.

Deep breath. Mind in the present. They had arrived at the station. Time to figure out if anyone had seen their runaway.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Looking at the world from and upside-down point of view, Allen reconsidered the wisdom of trying to get reacquainted with the act of balancing. And attempting it on a bedpost.

Fresh bruises throbbed. Laughing gold looked down on him.

Allen reddened. Yeah, _really_ bad idea when a Noah could barge into the room any moment. And he might not know exactly what a Noah was yet, but he was pretty convinced it was scary and bad news in general. He'd just been so _bored_ …

He definitely wasn't bored with Road's grin bearing down on him. More like franticly trying to come up with a good excuse. And hoping she'd buy it and _leave_. That smile made him way, _way_ too nervous. As in, alone-in-the -cage-with-the-wild-animals nervous. Somehow she reminded him a lot of one of those giant cats-

"Do it again."

… _Huh?_ Allen blinked. "Um… Do what again? Mistress Road?" He said befuddled, stumbling over the unfamiliar title.

"That trick. It looked fun, so do it again," she demanded cheerfully, dragging the heavy chair in a more favorable position, and plopped down on it with an expectant grin on her face.

"Um…" Allen hesitated, searching for a way to dodge this one. "I haven't practiced in a while…"

Road waved him on. "Doesn't matter. You were practicing now, didn't you? I'll watch. Entertain me."

Allen felt a droplet of sweat trickle down his nape. Took a look at her face and swallowed. _Hell…_

But he had the distinct feeling that refusing was not an option. So he took a deep breath, held it, retook his position and placed his hands on smooth wood. And kicked off, flinging his legs high in the air. _Exhale, inhale, hold._

His arms trembled, threatening to collapse. _Hold!_

Exhale, inhale, relax his legs and arc backwards till he could feel his feet gently resting on top of his head. Hold.

Exhale, and let them sink further, past his face so he could rest his ankles against his ears and ignore the sweat dripping in his eyes. _Inhale, hold._

Trembling becoming shaking, the strain burning on his muscles, he swept his legs back, landing lightly on the ground. Though with far less grace than he was used to. Panting, he shook out aching arms, trying not to glance too much at the slender Noah clapping and laughing and calling for more.

He was out of practice, that was the problem. Otherwise he'd be more than happy to oblige, especially because her acting like this made her a _lot_ less scary. More pampered rich kid instead of bored predator. Not that pampered rich kids were harmless, exactly. They could cause homeless people _endless_ amounts of trouble, but at least they didn't give the impression of wanting to _eat_ you.

_Makes you almost believe she is merely human._

He was kind of starting to figure out why the Noah unsettled him so. It was the look in their eyes that told him they were superior and they _knew_ it. Just as they knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he was at their mercy. And they found it _funny_.

Like torturing stray animals or burning a homeless kid's blankets in winter.

Yeah. _Way_ better to have her laugh at circus tricks.

Only… he didn't really have the energy to keep doing them. Maybe one or two before weariness and the need to eat would make it too dangerous to continue. Even with a Noah girl that twanged every nerve the wrong way breathing down his neck.

… _Bloody hell._

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Road grinned. She wasn't like Wisely who could read people like a book, but she could read the thoughts closest to the surface, like an experienced sailor could read waves and wind. And what she read in Allen amused her.

_He has good instincts._

He wouldn't have survived the streets otherwise. The ones that didn't sense danger when it was about to pounce them died the first weeks. The once that couldn't sense ill intent died the first months. And the ones that had good senses but lacked the necessary instincts to know when to bluff and when to run like hell sooner or later misjudged a situation. His nightmares had been very clear on that. Among other things.

_But he has it all. A born survivor._

Which meant that while he might not know what she was capable off, he could sense it as clear as a shark smelling blood. And he knew better than to run from a predator. Or show fear.

_And he isn't a bad actor._

Briefly she wondered whether to blame the streets or the circus. Not that it mattered. But it was funny to see him try to hide his unease.

_That fear has to go._

Respect and obedience were what they needed, were he to become useful. Fear was good for enemies and reluctant allies, not for one who might become their own exorcist-pawn. It would only be an obstacle. Because how could you be truly loyal to someone you feared?

The best way to quell fear was to soothe the instincts causing it. And the best way to do that was letting him get used to her. Which was turning out to be more entertaining than expected.

 _Adopted child of a_ clown _. I should have thought of that before._

Wisely probably already knew. And hadn't told. As soon as Road got time she'd dump him in the middle of a nice blizzard for that.

She could see the boy was getting tired _._ But apparently he was too scared to tell her that. That wouldn't do.

"I can see you're trembling,~" Road sang teasingly. Allen cringed, looking like a deer that realized it walked into a hunter's trap.

Letting out a giggle that probably raked the boy's nerves like nails did chalkboard, she jumped from her seat. "Come, let's go eat!"

Too startled to resist Allen allowed Road to drag him through the long corridors. Which was fun in its own way, as he grew more and more uncomfortable.

Stopping in front of the dining room doors she reached out to that quivering soul. _What is it that you fear?_

Like echoes, a sense of not-knowing-where, not-knowing-how-to-return, of _lost_ -

She smiled at confused gray, knowing he didn't know why they weren't entering yet. _Let's see if he'll admit it._

Tapping her cheek as if she were thinking she teased, "You seem a bit tense.~ I do so wonder why…" She glanced at her hands on his wrist, were she could feel his raging pulse.

No more than twelve, but street veterans were always older than their years suggested. It took just a few seconds for the innuendo to turn his face bright red.

_Oh, cute!_

"N-no, that isn't-!" He groaned and slapped his hand in his face as she laughed at him. "… It's nothing."

Smiling sweetly in a way that fooled most adults, she accepted that answer. Inside she was giggling. _Wrong choice Allen!~_

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

… _She left._

It should have been a relief. _Should have_ being the key words here. Glaring at polished wood Allen wondered whether or not he should slam his head against it. _Been there, done that… you know it won't help._

He really, really hated being _lost_.

Road had smiled, and laughed and talked through the entire dinner – and dinner it was, candle light and all, God help him – until she suddenly said something about still having things to do and _surely you can find the way back on your own, Allen_ before waving and leaving without giving him time to reply. Leaving him blinking at the closed door with the remains of their dinner and _no way to find his room._

_She did that on purpose!_

Rationally, he knew he had no proof for that. For anyone else it wouldn't be a problem. She couldn't have known his terrible sense of direction screwed with even the simplest of routes if he didn't know them by heart. He hadn't told her.

But he had seen the look she'd given him.

Well, now he knew what she had wanted before they entered here. An _admission_.

 _And I was too paranoid to give it._ Banging his head against the table became more and more tempting. _But that isn't fair! If you tell something like that to someone you barely know in the city-_

_But I'm not in the city right now._

Still. Road gave him the creeps and you just _don't trust_ people like that-

Only obviously, he didn't really have a choice. He took a moment to thoroughly curse whoever it was that had put him in this position.

He rose. "Mistress Road?" He called. And blushed at the idiocy of that action. Of course she wouldn't hear him.

Indecisive he looked around. _Maybe…_

Minutes later he was cursing himself. _Idiot, letting yourself get baited…_

But there was no turning back now. He'd find his room on his own.

… Now if only he could _believe_ that...

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

 _Well, at least the screaming lessened,_  Road thought, lounging in a big chair and licking a lollipop, observing the experiment's proceeding. It really was an improvement. Screaming was nice, but on the long run also very _annoying_.

Locked in a separate dimension on the other side of an enormous window, the unfortunate human writhed.

She nudged the shivering akuma at her feet. "Hey, what's Allen doing?"

The Level two cringed, but then reluctantly used his ability to look beyond the range of ordinary eyes. "H-he's left and is wandering, Mistress Road."

She smirked. Experienced street rat, yes, but still a child, with all the pride those of that age could muster. Staying put till the next meal probably hadn't even occurred to him.

 _Let's give him a few hours to learn his lesson._ "Keep watching him."

On the other side of enchanted glass, the human cried out in agonized terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I just couldn't drop the image of Allen dealing with stress by doing circus tricks in his spare time. Which he has a lot of at the moment. And the reason why I believe it actually plausible is because he's still able to juggle playing cards after living with Cross (look at him performing for 'the pumpkin and the witch' in Rewinding Town. Those are definitely playing cards in that drawing). Knives and balls would have made sense even just for training, but playing cards? Had to be a hobby.
> 
> Kanda is still quite young right now (about 15?). Young people are often more irrational. So yeah, Kanda's temper is even worse than in the manga. Or rather, he's louder about it. Not sure if it's worse.


	8. Chapter 8

Allen slapped his forehead and peered through his fingers. Nope, still the same.

This time, he decided, he’d _really_ pushed his luck too far. When Lero said the Ark contained dimensions of its own he hadn’t really believed it, but apparently the umbrella hadn’t been joking. Though how on earth he’d ended up here he still wasn’t sure about. All he’d done was open a door. Nothing wrong with opening a door, right? Wrong. Dead wrong. A moment of truly monumental stupidity, because he might not do directions, but he _knew_ that there were no doors between his room and the dining room. Mana used to have a saying about these kind of things. Something about a curious cat and dying.

Looking at a landscape made from glass and water and a multicolored sky that just _could not be real_ , Allen finally gave in to the urge to bang his head against something. Cristal leaves tinkled pleasantly as the tree shuddered under his assault.

When the dents in his forehead became too much, he stopped and felt a bit better. Nothing like one headache get rid of another.

With a sigh he turned around and had to fight himself to not just turn right back and knock himself out, because _the door was gone._ It had opened in an odd rock formation. The rocks were still there. The door wasn’t.

Gritting his teeth, he settled for punching the glittering glass. And blinked as his eye caught an odd sparkle  in the crystal itself. After a few moments of twisting and taking a look from different angles he’d found his door. Seamlessly locked into the rock. With no doorknob whatsoever. Of. Course.

Tempted to tear out his hair in frustration, he took the time to heap every curse he knew on the damn thing. At this point the more suspicious part of him was convinced this place was made just to torture him.

‘Don’t let your anger rule you.’ _Oh. Yeah. Stupid. Argh._ But he wanted to break something so _bad_. It was possible that throwing a fit around here wasn’t as dangerous as in the city, but he didn’t know for sure and he’d rather not find out he was wrong.

 _In. And out. Breathe. And get_ moving.

Growling under his breath he stomped away to look for another door. Obviously he wouldn’t be able to use this one to leave this place. Something cracked under his feet like breaking ice and sharp fragments drew thin red lines on exposed skin and suddenly he found himself submerged in an underground stream, clear water nearly undistinguishable from the surrounding glass.

Panic seized him. Desperately he tried to get back to the surface, but before he got very far the stream surfaced from a hole in a crystal cliff. Sputtering out water Allen tumbled down the waterfall, before hitting the small lake with a startled yelp.

Gasping he resurfaced, clumsily fighting the pull of the water. He wasn’t good at swimming, Mana had only taught him the basics, but he managed to reach the shore. If entirely out of breath and mind half in shock trying to process _what the fuck just happened._

And decided he now officially and unconditionally _hated_ the Ark.

 _What kind of insane, messed up mind came up with this?!_ Though every minute he became more and more convinced Mana would have loved it. The wacky old clown had liked weird things like their audience liked the circus. Thrilling and exiting and something to go on and on about for _days_. It didn’t help that everywhere he looked things sparkled prettily like diamonds.

If Allen would say something about it, it wouldn’t be pretty. Street-life was a _terrible_ influence on your vocabulary. Mana had been convinced of that. On the bright side, Allen could curse the damn thing for hours without repeating himself. Though at the rate he was going, he might not have enough to last.

Seething, drenched and swearing, his new cuts stinging like tiny needles, Allen resumed his walk through the distorted landscape. Though with distinctly more care than before. And knew somewhere, somehow the slender Noah was laughing at him. He was tempted to take some of the glassy rock with him, just so he could bounce it off her head in revenge.  Probably not very conductive to survival, but _oh_ , how he wanted to.

 _Don’t, bad idea, don’t know what she’ll come up with as punishment._  And punish she would, were he to show such a level of disrespect. Superiors were unfair that way. Especially when they deserved it. Like Kojimo.

Well, if he couldn’t plot vengeance against Road, he sure could fantasize about getting even with the hateful clown. _If they got dimensions like this then maybe they got some nastier ones too. Maybe, if I ask nicely, Road will even point me to one.  Would serve the ugly bastard right-_

Heh. Seemed like he found another pastime. He shook his head.

_Now, if I were a bloody door, where would I be hidden?_

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

He knew he shouldn’t gawk. He knew _better_ than to gawk at strangers. It was impolite and made people think he was daft. Still, the blind man couldn’t help it. He had _not_ just heard what he thought he'd heard.

Kanda, having no such bothersome little worries like manners and other people’s opinion, had already seized the startled man by his coat. “ _What_ did you say?”

“H-he was looking for an earl-“

Marie took a deep breath. “ _Which_ earl?”

“Um… don’t really remember? Had something to do with time-“ the man squeaked, twisting nervously in Kanda’s steel grip. “Look, can you let go? I’ve got an appointment in a few minutes-“

Marie put his hand on Kanda’s shoulder. Reluctantly Kanda let go. Struggling to keep his voice calm so he wouldn’t agitate the man further, Marie said, “Just one moment. Could it have been the Earl of the Millennium?”

The man paused in straightening his coat. “Eh? Yes, something like that. Can I go now? I’m already late.”

“Of course. Our apologies for bothering you,” Marie replied politely, willing the temperamental teen next to him to behave. He could feel the man give them a dubious look before his hurried footsteps faded down the road. Kanda was releasing a tirade that turned the air blue about the idiocies of useless street rats. They were getting quite a lot of room from passerby’s. 

Chilled to the core, Marie barely noticed the whispered comments about barmy foreigners and warnings not to go near dangerous people. It couldn’t be true. It just _couldn’t be._

Whatever he had expected following Allen’s trail, this wasn’t it. _We took too long. We should have used the finders. Maybe then we would have picked up his trail sooner._ Sightings from observant employees of the train station had led them to this city. People who had seen a lone child in pain had alerted them to the worrying condition of the boy, making their job all the more urgent. But now…

“Come on. Maybe it’s not too late yet.” Kanda grabbed him by the arm, determination radiating from his grip. “If he was as ill as that guy said he was, he would have a room somewhere nearby. He got the money for it now.”

Oooh, Marie hadn’t even thought of that. What if the boy decided to remain on the streets, like he was used to? Gunde had needed _two weeks_ to find him. And that was in the city where the kid _lived_. People there had at least known him somewhat. But Kanda was right. Maybe the boy was still around and had done the smart thing. Maybe the Earl didn’t know yet. Marie could only pray that was the case.

It took them some time to find the street were the man had met Allen. Marie strained his ears, Innocence aiding him as he searched for something that sounded like the child on the record.

“Well?” Kanda asked impatiently.

“Nothing.” Grabbing a random person by the arm Marie asked, “Are there any inns around here?” The person in his grip jumped. A young man, judging from the sound of his voice. And not very good at reading people, he concluded as his unfortunate victim started yelling. “Huh, wha- Hey, what do you think you are doing?!”

Marie shook him. They had no time to lose. “Are there any inns?” He repeated, lowering his voice to make it more menacing. The man gulped. “Er, about five. The Old Oak Inn, Havelocks Tavern, The Duchess, Black Horse Hall and The New Inn. Oh, and there is The Weathervane, but that one is bogus. You’re lucky if there’re no pests and the mattress is more than just a piece of wood with a cover-“ The man stopped his nervous babbling when Kanda drew his sword and threatened him. Instead he shrieked and nearly had a little mishap in his pants. Marie would have groaned at Kanda’s behavior, but refrained for Allen’s sake. On bright side, the man was admirably quick in giving them directions.

Muttering a quick thanks as he pushed the man away, and then they were rushing down the streets again. “Which do you think is most likely?”

Kanda huffed, not even needing to think about it. “The Weathervane. The others are too posh.”

Marie nodded. A few minutes later they barged into the seedy establishment that was hidden in some narrow side street. A young girl – probably the owner’s daughter – paused in her sweeping at their rude entry. The broom clattered on the floor as she took a fearful step back.

Holding out a hand to keep Kanda from rushing forward, he raised the other palm out to indicate peaceful intentions. “Our apologies. We are looking for someone and it’s quite urgent. Is there a young boy with white hair staying here?”

“Why? What do you want with him?” The girl asked nervously.

Marie felt guilty for scaring her. She was probably no older than fourteen. “We heard he might be in trouble. We came to help him,” he said as kindly as he could.

The girl shook her head. “He was here, but he left a few days ago. It was really weird. He even left his stuff…” She paused. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you know where he was going?” Kanda demanded, ignoring Marie’s pained silence.

The girl shook her head, her long hair swishing with the motion. “N-no. It was- Well, it was really weird, sir,” she said softly, with a quavering voice, probably from the look on Kanda’s face. “You see, he went up one night and he never came down- The stairs creak you know, so we would have heard, we sleep right next to them. And the room…” She trailed off and shook her head again.

Carefully Marie stepped forward and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What was wrong with the room?”

The girl swallowed and shook her head again. “You better see for yourself. I-I can’t read, you see…” She put her broom away and led them to the second floor. The stairs creaked horribly indeed. She paused at a door and hesitated, before taking a key out of her pocket. She waved them into a small, draughty room with a single window and what was probably an uncomfortable bed. “Um, in here, sir.”

Next to him Marie felt Kanda freeze.

 XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Road didn’t know whether she should laugh or curse. The Earl obviously had chosen the former and was quite happily making notes. Another powerful blast tore though the other dimension. It wasn’t a very big dimension and Road could feel the strain the Fallen One was putting on it. Sooner or later it was going to crack and since it was a sub-dimension of the Ark… Well, that could be troublesome.

Another blinding white blast and this time the tremors even managed to reach through the observation window. She choose cursing.

“Don’t let it escape, dear,~” The Earl said, cheerfully aware of her intent.

She scoffed playfully. “As if I would.” A flick of her wrist and a door opened on the other side of the window, right in the path of the next energy ray, catching it neatly like a mouse in a trap. She shuddered as she felt the Innocence-laced light pass through her dream, the pressure enough to cause her some pain. She smirked anyway, knowing very well were she was sending it. Some people were about to have a _very_ bad day.

More blasts from the enraged Innocence, but now it was just an exciting game of Catch. Ray after ray disappeared through her doors, wreaking havoc in the real world. She grinned, despite the pain in her head as her dream trembled under the onslaught of the rabid energies. She was the Noah of Dreams, she _was_ the dream, she ruled it, owned it, could change it at will. All she had to do was close her eyes and imagine the cracks gone. The very _idea_ an Innocence would be able to shatter her was laughable.

It wouldn’t be long now. The Innocence was rapidly eating away the life of its unwanted host, and the poor thing hadn’t had much to begin with, half-dead as she was after days of experiments. Soon it would become a senseless crystal again.

By the time it was over she was sweating. The Earl gently patted her head. “Well done Road.~”

She gave him a grin. “You owe me.”

He chuckled good natured. “Candy again?~”

She hummed in thought. “Nah, you still owe me that year supply. I’ll think of something.”

The Earl nodded and returned to his notes. “You do that, dear.~”

She smiled again and then wrinkled her nose. Time for a change of clothes. On the way out she picked up the Level Two from where he’d retreated to during the Fallen One’s rampage. “And?”

The akuma recoiled and made a quick bow. She smirked at the sight. Spherical creatures weren’t really meant for bowing. “He’s still wandering, Mistress Road,” He reported nervously.

“Any immediate danger?”

“Um…” The akuma frantically scanned the area Allen was currently stumbling through. Road could see what he was looking at. It was funny how much the thing resembled a crystal ball. She almost giggled as she saw which dimension Allen was visiting; another one she’d designed when she had been bored. She wondered if he preferred petals over glass. Seeing him flail around in the stuff, she somehow didn’t think so.

Singing softly under her breath she skipped out of the labs, leaving the Earl to continue his experiments. Just before the doors closed a new person started screaming. She smiled.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Somewhere in the Ark a door opened. Allen peeked around the corner and sighed relieved. He hurried to close it behind him, spilling a trail of blazing reds and soft pinks on the doorstep. The thick smell of flowers didn’t give up that easily and stubbornly clung to his clothes. He ignored it and sagged against the door.

After a moment he raised his head again to take a better look at his surroundings, slightly unnerved by the quietness of the place. At least this time it looked like it could belong in the real world, though the lack of sound was almost oppressing. Bookcases reached high into the air, touching the dome whose curve he could barely discern in the gloom above. Rows and rows of them, creating barely lit alleys of literature that somehow put him more at ease than the brightly illuminated fields of petals he just walked – or rather swum – through.

 _First glass, then flower petals. This place is nuts._ Though now he was no longer forced to attempt to navigate wacky dream landscapes, he could actually acknowledge that both dimensions had been sort off pretty in a really weird way. Sparkles and bright colors. Somehow they reminded him a bit of Mana and the acts they used to do together in the circus. At those times all that had surrounded them had been shadows, vivid colors and shiny stuff, and the vague faces of the audience.

He sighed. Absentmindedly he plucked a lilac petal out of his hair. It looked almost otherworldly in the grim half-light of what appeared to be a library of monstrous proportions. He threw it aside.

With a quiet groan he got back on his feet. No way was he going through _this_ door again, so it was time to find another. He randomly picked a direction because he didn’t know the place anyway, and started walking. The sound of his footsteps breaking the heavy silence almost felt like sacrilege.

Turned out, it wasn’t a good choice, considering half an hour wandering hadn’t yielded to anything but more books. That is, until a sound around one corner made him curious. Which once again confirmed Mana really had been right with his proverb.

It was fortunate his feet had more sense than their owner and were carrying him away before his brain realized the things he’d stumbled upon weren’t friendly.

Fear fueled his flight as he ran through the maze of books while he desperately tried to stay ahead of the monsters following him and ignore whatever freaky thing was going on with his sight. His scarred eye was throbbing and twisting like a snake trying to see the back of its head and his breath was almost as fast as his heartbeat – which really, really wasn’t good – heart was hammering, legs burning and damn it all to the seven rings of Hell, were they actually _gaining_ on him?

Skidding around a corner he almost fell flat on his face before he scrambled back to balance and shot down the next aisle, the monsters in hot pursuit behind him. Some small part of him that wasn’t busy with getting the hell away wondered if they were akuma and whether he could explain he was one too. A bullet whistled past his ear and he would have screamed if he had any breath to spare. As it was, he just pushed himself to go even faster. Somehow he had the feeling they wouldn’t listen even if he’d decide to risk it.

Another turn, another twist, and had this been the city he would have jumped and climbed as he’d so often done to escape, but damn it, these weren’t a bunch of thugs! These things could fly, _were_ flying, and the distance between them was ever so slowly shrinking. The only reason why they hadn’t caught him yet was because the aisles were too narrow for their bulky bodies to gain full speed.

Another corner and suddenly there was a great ruckus of breaking wood, falling books and curses. Many people would have looked back to see what happened but Allen knew it would only slow him down. It didn’t matter anyway because once more bullets shot past like a horde of angry bees and he had to duck into another aisle to avoid them.

With the terrible timing he was used to, black spots started to dance across his vision. Now he was pretty much running blindly, his own wheezing gasps almost drowning out all other sounds as blood pounded in his head. His eye hurt like someone was slowly crushing it.

At that point he was so busy he really, really didn’t expect to run into a piece of furniture. Then again, the world never seemed to put much effort into meeting his expectations. He hit it so hard he actually made a somersault and crashed into the floor convinced he’d just broken his legs in every way possible. Belated he realized that some part of whatever it was he ran into hit him full in the stomach, making him feel like he was about to throw up his intestines on top of everything else. Heavy panting was broken by pained hiccups as tears he hadn’t even realized he was crying ran down his face. He groaned at the sheer agony thrumming through his body.

It wasn’t until black, high heeled boots stepped into his wavering vision that he realized his pursuers had stopped as well.

“What,” a frigidly precise voice asked, “Is the meaning of _this?”_

With a whimper of pain and a lot of effort he managed turn his head to look up at the dark-skinned woman in front of him. And blinked. Piercing gold eyes slowly slid from him to the monsters in disinterested disdain, aversion plain in every line of her body. But that wasn’t what had surprised him. They were harder to spot in the dim light, but on her forehead he could discern seven thin crosses.

_She’s a Noah…_

And the Noah commanded the akuma. For a moment all he felt was relief. Then he made the mistake of trying to move his lower body and couldn’t suppress a weak scream. _Oh, bloody Hell, bloody buggering fuck, damn, owww…_

Of course it was too much to hope the monsters would keep their traps shut while he tried to gather his scattered wits.

“Intruder, intruder!”

“He was running away!-”

“Mistress, we couldn’t let him escape! He’s a human!”

“Am not!” Allen yelled as loud as he could. Which hurt and wasn’t very loud considering he hadn’t gotten his breath back under control yet. As a result, he was ignored.

“He was running _away!”_

“Mistress, Mistress, Mistress! Human! Kill! Kill!-“

“Silence!” The crack of a whip cut off the racket like a door slamming shut. Gold glinted with annoyance as her eyes swept over them. The monsters cringed.

Belatedly Allen realized that being a Noah didn’t mean she was on his side. Instinct urged him to get up and _get away_ _from here,_ but he barely got his face off the floor before he knew he wasn’t going to make it. Both his legs and his stomach immediately went on a strike. Viciously.

_Ow, ow, ow, damn it all to hell, ouch…_

And no _way_ was he throwing up his diner right now. Nu-uh, not a chance. Determined, he swallowed the rising bile back down.

The slender fingers taking his chin in an unyielding grip were almost a welcome distraction.

“A human, hmm?” The Noah slowly forced his face at different angles, like the lady of the fruit stall deciding whether an apple was too rotten to sell. “The Master doesn’t have time to deal with trespassers. Figure out how he got in and get rid of him.” She turned on her heels, obviously intent to get back to whatever it was she’d been doing.

“The Earl knows! He was the one who brought me here!” Allen protested desperately, fearing for his life.

Some of the monsters started to laugh, but the Noah silenced them with a sharp look. Unimpressed eyes settled on him. “That,” She said, her voice cold and admonishing, unvoiced threat _daring_ him to disobey, “- is _Master_ Earl, for you.”

 _Yeah…_ Allen thought morosely. He decided he’d rather swallowed shards of glass than get on her bad side.

 Satisfied her message was clear, her whip snapped at one of the monsters. “You. Go ask the Earl for confirmation. The rest of you, leave. After all,” she said, once more focusing on Allen, “It wouldn’t do to interfere with one of the Master’s projects.”

Allen gulped and made the mistake to look over his shoulder at the retreating monsters. With a stab of pain more agonizing than the ones before his eye writhed, a feeling as if it was twisting upside down and somehow _changing_ , and suddenly he could see the hideous, ghoul-like apparitions from their backs. He whimpered and pressed his hand over the aching socket. So he’d been right about them. Bile leapt into his throat at the sight. And this time it seemed even more determined to escape.

 _Not real, just a defect, you’re just seeing things-_ With a lot of difficulty he managed to swallow. And turned away in time to catch the Noah’s inquisitive look, whip oddly enough nowhere to be seen.

Obviously dismissing the matter, the woman seated herself on a thickly cushioned sofa and picked up what he supposed was the book she’d been reading before he’d rather unceremoniously dropped by. Apparently she wasn’t going to do anything until she got word from the Earl. Thank God for small mercies.

Biting his lip to keep from crying out he slowly sat up and wriggled his feet and fingers. He hadn’t hurt this bad since the last time a drunk Kojimo had gotten a hold of him, but it seemed that everything was still in working order. Thank God.

“What’s your name?”

Allen almost _eeped._ Seemed like the Noah wasn’t as disinterested as she appeared. He considered the wisdom of answering. The more clear headed part of him then pointed out the danger of _not_ answering, and proceeded to slap the still dazed part around the head till it saw sense.

“My name is Allen, Mistress.” He hesitated, before adding, “I’m sorry we disturbed you.”

He might have imagined it, but for a moment he thought he saw a slightly pleased flicker in her eye. “So some of you _do_ have manners. Good.” She turned a page. “The Master values proper behavior.”

Allen blinked. That… was good to know. _Manners… manners… I can do manners,_  he thought relieved. _Thanks Mana._

He wanted to say something more, see if he might be able to get in her good graces, but she had already returned to her book and he thought probably the best thing he could do was not disturb her further. Instead he started to check his injuries as quietly as he could.

He wasn’t nearly done yet when without a sound a big set of double doors rose from the ground. They were heart-shaped and decorated with gold and a red-and-black chequered pattern. He stared at them incredulously.

Then they swung open and Road stepped out with a cheerful bounce in her step. He scowled, before he realized what she was wearing. His jaw dropped. There were ribbons and frills and the overall effect was downright _creepy._ Someone as scary as Road shouldn’t wear cute things. Even if they went well with her childish appearance.

He was still gaping when she hugged him and ruffled his hair. An odd… _thing_ with a face like a goblin and a really big coat followed her carrying bandages and other first aid supplies.

Road sighed. “Look at you. I take my eyes off for just a _few_ minutes and immediately you look like you’ve been attacked by something.”

Allen shook off the shock. _I was,_ he thought annoyed, doing his best to ignore her. Instead he tried to pay attention to the weird creature – he believed he’d heard of those; Skull, Lero’d called them – that was treating his injuries. It became harder when her hug tightened, subtly putting pressure on some of his sore spots. He gave up on it and gave her a look. “You were watching me?”

She nodded, smiling. Allen groaned and slapped his forehead. With a very restrained voice he said, “Could you next time maybe _ask_ me to tell you something?”

Road blinked, eyes twinkling. “Now where would be the fun in _that?_ ”

Allen growled, hanging on to his self-control with his fingertips. She might _look_ like he could take her, but she had already demonstrated exactly how bad a delusion that was. He hadn’t survived this long by being _stupid._ Still, he absolutely _hated_ people messing with him.

Naturally, she just laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received a question on fanfiction.net regarding Kojimo’s name, the clown that beat Allen before he met Mana. And if one is curious enough to ask, then there are more people wondering the same thing. I know that others have spelled the name as ‘Cosmo’, ‘Cosimo’ or something else, but ‘Kojimo’ was used in the official translation, so I went with that. Hope that clarifies things and I’ll try to remember to mention it when such a thing comes up again.
> 
> Yes, I’m having a bit of fun with the Ark’s properties. So many opportunities yet so rarely used. I hope it entertained everyone. And hey, if you can have an area with a sky like a daycare, bottomless pits and stairs made of floating steps that put Hogwarts to shame…


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the long wait. As a reward for your patience this chapter is a bit longer than the previous. I hope you’ll enjoy.

_“’Too late, exorcists’? You sure that’s all it said?”_

“For the last time, Komui, _yes._ ”

 _“Don’t be so snappy, Kanda,"_ Komui sighed. _“You can’t blame a man for wanting more clues._ ”

“I can if he’s being annoying about it.”

“Yes, we noticed,” Marie muttered. He had yet to manage to accept their failing. They had been _so close_ , only to discover the Earl had been closer. The taunt on the wall had hurt more than he was willing to admit. Worse, all of them were now convinced Allen had been an accommodator. Just imagining what their enemy would do to the child almost made him retch.

There was silence on the other end, until Komui finally scrapped together the courage to ask what he’d been wanting to ask for the last ten minutes. _“Was it really blood?”_

 _Allen’s blood_ was left unsaid, but nonetheless hovered above their heads like a guillotine blade.

“We don’t know,” was Kanda’s blunt reply. “But probably not. Blood washes off when you try hard enough, and the owners almost scrubbed the plaster off.”

It had been the only light on this depressing day. At least it hadn’t been the unfortunate kid’s blood on the wall.

A tired sigh rattled through the speaker. To unpracticed ears it sounded more like someone blowing a raspberry. _“Central isn’t happy. This is the second time an accommodator disappears. Is there any chance you’ll find a trail?”_

Subtly Kanda glanced at Marie, his unvoiced question loud in the sullen silence. It was a rare occasion nowadays that Kanda would ask for more experienced advice.

For a moment Marie didn’t move, irrationally not wanting to confirm what they all knew, as if by not acknowledging it reality would change somehow to accommodate their wishes. But he wasn’t delusional either. Wordlessly he shook his head. The Earl had taken Allen. All trails would end there.

Kanda gave a nod. “Unless there’s a sighting, no.”

They could almost hear Komui’s face fall. _“I see.”_ Another sigh. _“Alright. Kanda, Marie, thank you for your work. I expect you here before the week is over._ ”

Both answered affirmative. What else was there to say?

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Komui put down the phone with the resigned air of someone with way too much responsibility on his shoulders and the knowledge he wasn’t getting rid of it anytime soon.

For the umpteenth time he contemplated the wisdom of not informing the exorcists of the odd attack the Earl had launched recently, before deciding once again there wasn’t anything they would be able to do with that knowledge.

“Now, explain again. What happened _exactly?”_

Reever, his right hand man and ever looking like he was ready to keel over from overwork, scratched his head and gave another summary of the disturbing report.

“We’re still not sure, chief. It was an aerial attack that involved what looked like huge beams of light instead of the usual bullets. Each beam caused massive destruction and several big cities will be rebuilding for years. We don’t know the death toll yet, but most estimate it within the hundreds, some even suggesting thousands.” He flipped several pages before continuing. “Despite the loss we don’t know what the Earl’s goal was. We’re not even sure whether the Earl was involved. The attacks were erratic and seemingly random. The readings indicate something else than Dark Matter was used to cause the destruction. In short,” he sighed, “We have no idea what’s going on.”

Staring at his folded hands Komui sank into deep thought. Despite the lack of proof he was quite sure the Earl had a hand in the alarming incident. A dark sense of trepidation made his heart sink. Even a horde of akuma would have been hard pressed to match the destruction at any of the sites of disaster. If it was the Earl testing a new type they were in deep trouble indeed.

Even more worrying was that they had had not a single clue it’d been coming. Getting an idea of the Earl’s plans was difficult at best but with something this big they should have at least picked up _some_ clues. However, devastation had rained down without warning, like lightning from a clear sky.

He sighed. There was nothing they could do at the moment, except try to pick up the pieces.

“Thank you. Tell the teams to keep gathering data.”

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Back in his room at last, Allen was heavily contemplating the weirdness that was Road, Noah of Dreams. What that title entailed he still wasn’t sure, but he’d already had a taste of some of her powers. Her doors were seriously disturbing. It didn’t help she quite cheerfully told him that crossing distances in a way nobody ought to was just the start of her abilities. And that was not counting the casual admission each Noah had abilities of similar magnitude.

It made his skin crawl. Not for the first time he wondered exactly what he’d gotten himself into that fateful night.

 _Why, why was I that bloody_ stupid _?_

But he knew the answer. It had been _Mana._

He sighed, shifting for the thousandth time. His bed was uncomfortably soft, the duvet lacking even the barest hint of the prickling roughness of cheap wool and the mattress was utterly devoid of the unyielding hardness of wood. He wasn’t used to this- this _softness_ and it was seriously maiming his ability to sleep. Though he had to admit it beat trooping through _more_ wacky sub-dimensions of the Ark. From Road’s smile, he was pretty sure there were more. A _lot_ more.

Who would have thought he’d appreciate her dragging him around on his wounded arm?

Grumbling he tried for the umpteenth time to fall asleep. Who on earth designed beds to be so damn _fluffy_ anyway?

In the end he managed to snooze a bit, the exhaustion from last day’s events not allowing him to forgo rest altogether.

Of course it wouldn’t last.

The click of the door opening was the only warning he got before something landed on him with a cheerful _good morning!_ Even with the wind knocked out of him, Allen still managed to lash out to his attacker, who was just as suddenly gone as she’d appeared. Immediately wide awake, the white haired boy scrambled to his feet, hindered by the unexpected tangle of down-filled fabric around him. His instincts were screaming at him for letting his guard down and he was almost shaking with adrenaline.

Before he could take a fighting stance his assailant was on him again, this time wrapping him in a hug, trapping his arms against his sides. He kneed his attacker as hard as he could but the odd angle made it difficult to land a solid blow. As it was, it only made them loose their balance. Allen let out a small _oof_ as most of his assailant’s weight landed on his stomach.

After a few very tense seconds Allen relaxed just a tiny bit when he realized just who was on top of him. He groaned. “Mistress Road…”

Road giggled in his ear. “Good morning, Allen!”

Allen growled, glaring at the slender girl. “Yeah right! You attacked me.”

She grinned at him, utterly unashamed.

He glared a bit harder.

Her grin morphed into a smirk, golden eyes twinkling with mirth.

Allen closed his eyes and counted to ten, reigning in his urge to try and knock out some teeth. Even in the off chance he’d succeed, the Earl wouldn’t be happy with him.

As if she’d picked up on his thoughts Road snickered.

“Now you’re awake,” she said, sounding entirely too amused for his tastes, “The Earl wants to see you after breakfast.”

Thrown by the sudden announcement, Allen blinked. “Er…”

“It’s preparations for damage repair.”

“Um… Okay?” Allen said hesitantly, not entirely sure what kind of preparations she was talking about.

She gave him a cheeky smile before shoving him towards the bathroom. “Come on, Allen, hurry up and get dressed! Can’t make the Earl wait.~”

“Hey, wait-!” Allen yelled, before landing flat on his face on the dark tiles, the door slamming closed behind him. Shaking his head he pushed some white locks out of his face, messing up his hair worse than it already was. “I don’t have any clothes in here!” he called irritated.

Giggles drifted through the wooden barrier. “Yes you do. You should use your eyes better.”

Surprised Allen looked around, his eyes falling on a small pile of clothes that hadn’t been there when he went to sleep. How on earth she managed to get them there without him noticing he didn’t know, though he suspected her powers had come in handy. Creepy as it was, it was also a remarkably thoughtful gesture, especially for an authority figure.

Curious he lifted the fine material and immediately developed a twitch in his eyebrow. “Mistress Road,” he said with forced calm, “I think you made a mistake.”

“I’m sure I didn’t,” Road called back mockingly.

“Don’t treat me like an idiot. Why else do these things have _lace?_ ”

“It’s fashionable!”

Allen gave the door a blank look. “Fashionable for _who?”_

On the other side of the door Road laughed. Allen’s twitch got worse. “For you, actually.”

Allen glared at the lace frills spilling out of the sleeves of the jacket. “… You’re kidding me.”

“Am not!~ Now, are you going to whine all day or are you going to be a good akuma and put your clothes on? Its rude to make a lady wait,” Road called back teasingly.

“You’re no lady…” Allen muttered. Louder he called, “How on earth am I supposed to put this on?! I’ve never worn stuff like this before!”

Suddenly the door flew open and Road was standing next to him. “Oh, that’s simple! I’ll help you!”

Eyes wide Allen took a step back. “Um… no, wait, I don’t think-“ He was interrupted by Road pouncing on him, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Several long minutes later Allen finally managed to get her to back off enough for him to dress and was thoroughly annoyed. Apparently the small Noah didn’t give a damn about privacy and personal space, and she had way too much fun pointing out the proper ways to put everything on.

He went rigid when he got a good look at his appearance and the glare he aimed at the mirror would have scared away most thugs. Road just acted like she didn’t notice and was gushing at how cute he looked.

“… I. Look. Like. A. Bloody. _Doll,_ ” Allen growled with barely restrained anger, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

Road cuffed him around the head, mindful not to hit the decorated top-hat. “Mind your language around a lady,” She sniffed, daintily straightening her matching dress before grinning and grabbing his arm.

Allen huffed and allowed her to drag him away. He quite sure she was just pulling his leg but that didn’t make it easier to accept. Even Mana hadn’t been allowed to determine his life as much as the she did. The only reasons why he _did_ allow it were that he needed the Earl to fix him and the distrust he felt towards him and his family. Or rather, their unknown abilities. It just wouldn’t do to snap and get his head blown off in return or something equally gruesome. Mana would never forgive him.

Breakfast was a tense affair, at least from Allen’s side of the table. Road was apparently immune to death glares and foreboding silences. She just chattered at him about fashion and homework and worthless humans that needed to be crushed like cockroaches. For the sake of his strained temper he focused solely on that last topic. He didn’t have much love for humans. Even the few people that allowed him to nick some things from time to time weren’t really worth his concern as they refused to do anything more to help. If people weren’t actively trying to make his life miserable, then they looked away when others did.

Mana had been the only exception. The church was often nagging about some saint or another, but in Allen’s opinion those stories were rubbish. Humans simply weren’t that nice. Deep down, all humans were selfish bastards. Mana had just been far less of a bastard than most and for that Allen would forever be grateful.

And then there were the sermons. Oh god, the sermons, sprouting nonsense like worshipping God and being _grateful_. God was the biggest bastard off all. First making humans, then shunning them for acting like they were supposed to and abandoning them. In Allen’s opinion God shouldn’t have been so stupid to create them in the first place. Really, for someone who could build the entire world in just seven days the guy had been incredibly short sighted. *****

For some reason Road found that opinion hilarious.

 _Absolutely nuts, that’s what she is,_ he thought, pointedly ignoring how Mana had reacted exactly the same way, laughing and heaping more sweets onto his plate.

But he guessed it was an better reaction than he’d get from any pastor or priest. He didn’t fancy people who’d go after his guts with a couple of candles and a wooden cross. Especially not when they did it for some supposed world-builder they only saw when they were high on holy smoke.

Not that he’d ever broadcasted that point of view. On the streets you learned to keep your head down and your mouth shut if you wanted more than a snowball’s chance in hell to stay out of trouble. More than enough trouble found you without you needing to go looking for it.

It was almost unsettling how he could voice it now. But then again, the Earl had referred to the Big Bastard as ‘that despicable God’ when he offered to return Mana. He wasn’t surprised these people shared his opinion. It was one of the few points in their favor.

… And Road was giving him funny looks, as if she was gauging his reactions. He was quite sure she hadn’t intended him to notice but paranoia could be a wonderful thing. Had saved his life several times in fact. She shot him another one, this one decidedly annoyed and clearly intended to be seen. Allen mentally shrugged and chalked it up to her being weird anyway.

She stared at him a little longer before smiling randomly and insisting he should try the apple cake. Which turned out to be very good advice.

So good in fact, he was still munching some when they arrived at the Earl’s lab. Allen had never been in a lab before and was actually quite curious, not to mention eager to get his arm fixed.

Road cheerfully shoved him through the door and grinned at his startled expression, before grabbing his hand and running towards a conspicuous, rotund figure in a lab coat, top hat still seated above the long ears and decorated with a ring of small grinning faces.

The Earl let out an _oomph_ when Road released Allen in favor of jumping on his back and wrapping her arms around his neck.

He laughed and handed her what looked like a lollipop before turning to greet her companion.

“Ah, Allen-“ The Earl paused to take in his appearance. “My, I assume this is Road’s doing? Very fetching.~”

Allen sighed and consoled himself that there were worse things than being forced to wear ridiculous clothes. At least he had good food and a roof over his head and it wasn’t as if the humiliation was exactly public. It still didn’t do much for his temper. Nothing really did.

“Well, unfortunate as it is, you’ll have to change out of those. Now put this on and then come back. You can change in here,~” the Earl said as he cheerfully herded Allen into what looked like a storeroom. Curious Allen took a closer look at some jars on a shelf, only to resolutely decide not to explore. When someone had human hands on display you knew you didn’t want to see what he had actually hidden. Imagining was bad enough.

With a feeling the Earl was definitively off kilter Allen hurried to change. As it was, ‘this’ turned out to be a plain robe that could be tied closed and a pair of simple black trousers that ended just below his knees, which earned the Earl a point of approval over Road. Though the preserved body parts evened it out again. Frightening as it was, he might just prefer Road over the Earl when it came down to it. Weird clothes just weren’t as bad as missing limbs.

Bare footed Allen returned to find the Earl in a flurry of activity concerning an adjacent room. It seemed to involve setting up all kinds of stuff around a big metal table which, by the look of it, could be adjusted in height and angle of the top. Above it hung an big, odd, and above all very bright, lamp from a narrow metal construction he’d only ever seen in desk lamps. Somehow the sight of the table caused a twinge of unease in his stomach, which in turn made Allen quite nervous. He knew better than to ignore a gut feeling.

As the Earl was still distracted and Allen was not one to pass up the chance to get a feel of the situation, he took the time to take in the rest of his surroundings. Somehow they reminded him of the sub-dimensions.

The place looked like a weird cross between a library, a cluttered office and the lab of a mad scientist. That last one came not exactly as a surprise. Enormous bookcases surrounded tables covered in stacks of notes and what looked like the results of various national competitions of Creative Glassblowing While Hiccupping. Weird machines and crates filled with all kinds of spare parts stood next to carefully arranged boxes full of bottles containing what looked like every kind of unhealthy liquid there was.

Many Skulls were milling around, working on various projects or distributing supplies and who-knew-what-else. Some disappeared through the dozen or so doors that were scattered all over the place, adding to what looked like barely organized chaos.

Allen shook his head, trying to get rid of the wide-eyed stare he knew was decorating his face. Even the chaos of the circus just before a show hadn’t prepared him for this. There were just too many strange, interesting things going on.

With a great deal of curiosity he watched as one Skull operated a big, bulky machine that lifted the massive carcass of some kind of mechanical animal in the air for easier access. Suddenly a few yards to the left something that looked like dark-purple lightning leaped from a couple of rods towards a green glowing globe and cast the entire room in stark contrasts. Startled, Allen blinked and rubbed his eyes to get rid of the spots the sudden change in light had burned in his retina.

An unexpected touch made Allen swallow a yelp of surprise and he whirled around to punch whoever had snuck up on him. It felt as if he’d struck a big squishy cushion. The Earl let out an _oof_ , hand still hovering above the boy’s shoulder.

“Well, Allen, that wasn’t very nice,~” the Earl admonished the embarrassed white haired child a few moments later. Allen's face was still a dusty red as he stared at his feet from his seat on the table.

“I’m sorry, Master…” On the inside Allen was turning the air blue. It was just like his first days with Mana. His reflexes would lash out and would have landed him into loads of trouble hadn’t Mana preferred to laugh it off as his own mistake. The Earl was less forgiving, though he seemed to be content with a simple scolding. For now.

 _Alright, back to self-control._ On the streets restraint was mostly a waste of time, but he would have to bite his tongue and keep a tight leash on his reflexes if he wanted to avoid antagonizing his… owner… creator. Whatever.

It would take a _long_ time before he’d be used to referring to the Earl as such.

The Earl quietly hummed as he selected something from what looked like a cross between a table and a toolbox. Allen eyed it warily. “It is alright, child. Just refrain next time, hmm?~”

Vaguely Allen nodded, eyes fixed on the odd syringe-like instrument. Gulped. “Um…”

The Earl followed his gaze. “Ah, not to worry, child, not to worry. This will merely put you to sleep for a while so you won’t have to be bored when I work on you.~”

“… Work?” Not appeased at all, Allen kept shooting worried looks at the liquid-filled glass, nerves whining like tortured violins. He. Did. _Not._ Like being put to sleep. He _loathed_ being helpless.

The Earl tilted his head and glanced at him while his hands were busy ensuring there were no air bubbles left in the instrument. “Well, you wouldn’t wish to be awake for most of it. I can’t assess the damage without taking a look, you know?~”

Blanching, Allen reluctantly nodded. Visions of being cut open for a look at his organs undermining his resolution quite thoroughly. He swallowed, trying to ignore his raging instincts. “W-when I wake up… I won’t be in pieces, right?...”

The Earl chuckled, earning himself a glare. “Of course not, child. Why, you’ll barely even notice you’ve been in my lab!~”

Allen wasn’t reassured but didn’t resist when the Earl emptied the syringe in his arm. He had to fight to keep any semblance of calm as numbness slowly crept through his veins. He cursed the exorcist for making this necessary.

“Master Earl, can I ask you something?” Allen inquired, half wishing the anesthetic would hurry up and kick in already, half wishing to make a run for it before it could.

Absentmindedly the Earl nodded while he arranged some worrying pieces of machinery. Allen did not like the sight of them. He was already regretting his choice to sleep. He _really_ didn’t like not knowing what they’d be used for. But it was too late and he doubted the Earl could explain before he lost consciousness. The numbness had already spread to most of his limbs.

“Would you allow me to visit someone once I’m repaired?” he asked instead.

The Earl paused for a long moment and gave him a curious look. “And why would you wish to do that, child?~”

Allen scowled at the memory of drunken laughter and the scent of alcohol, body throbbing with remembered pain. “I owe him payback.”

The Earl blinked before chuckling. “Then I don’t see why not.~ Who is this person? The other akuma should be able to locate him.”

Inwardly Allen smirked in victory. At least something good would come from this. “His name is Kojimo. He works as a clown.”

“And what would you wish to do with him? I’m assuming you’ve got something planned.~”

As the drug did its job Allen’s speech became slurred. “’s thinkin’… to dump ‘m in the sub-dimensions...”

The Earl tut-tuted as the boy began to teeter, slowly sagging to the side. Gently he helped the child lie down. Allen gave him a mild glare before he succumbed to the anesthetic’s influence.

“Why don’t we continue this talk when we’re done, hmm?~ Sleep now, Allen… That’s a good child.~”

The last coherent thought Allen had was that the Earl had no right to sound so much like Mana in that last sentence.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

The Earl was swift to set aside most of the machinery. The equipment had mostly been a show to give Allen a good motivation to take the drug. No need to tell the child the Earl wouldn’t need much more than a bit of magic for what he’d _actually_ planned.

Pondering their short conversation he gave the sleeping boy an appreciative look. He knew it shouldn’t but still, every time it was a surprise how vicious street children could be. He hadn’t been fooled by the mild suggestion. He knew the look in the boy’s eyes too well for that. The child had an axe to grind and wanted to make it _hurt._

It was quite convenient Allen hated someone enough to want him dead. It would make teaching him to kill a lot easier.

Having given himself more room and having sent a mental message to all his field agents in Europe to be on the lookout for the clown, the Earl was eager to start on his real objective. Namely getting a proper look at his apprentice’s work.

First the cursed scar. As he’d already established it was a lovely piece of work. It would take a lot of time weaving a matching enchantment to turn the sight of the akuma’s souls into something more bearable, but it would be worth it in the end. Allen would have to work with other akuma somewhere down the road and loyalty was difficult to gain when your underlings looked like nightmares in the eyes of your target.

Singing softly to himself he sat down and traced the scar with his finger, reaching out with magic to draw the shape of the spell to the surface. Glowing, his apprentice’s personal runes appeared like golden light from the closed eye, the angry red lines of the scar glowing with the same light. Fluttering like agitated butterflies the odd circular shapes twisted and turned around one another in that terribly distinctive style that was the trademark of that man’s magic.

For a long moment the Earl simply watched, before picking up pen and paper to make enough notes to fill a small book.

After several hours of careful observing and prodding the revolving rune-patterns he had everything he would need for now. He released his hold and watched as the runes returned to their proper place. Taking great care to bind his notes together and having a Skull bring them to his study, he turned to his abandoned equipment for the other preparations.

At this stage there wasn’t much he could do yet, but some small scale experiment with Dark Matter was needed if he wanted to be able to predict the boy’s reaction when the time came. It would take quite some time before he could truly start converting the boy so the materials he used for ordinary akuma were out of the question. But neutral magic was alright, simple spells for monitoring with just a hint of Dark to protect them against the sleeping Innocence’s oppressive influence.  

Gently he started stroking magic into the young flesh, sending subtle ripples of change into blood and bone.  

Unexpected were the few that bounced back, echoing with the distant music of a half-forgotten song. The Earl paused.  

Then reached out, sending more ripples and listening with keen interest to those that returned. _Joy_ and _warmth_ whispered against his fingers, _change_ like an open invitation in the boy's energies, _protection_ entwined with the sound of a softly singing voice. The Earl smiled. He'd been right, his apprentice _had_ done more than bestowing Sight on the child.  

Curiosity peaked but not daring drawing the runes out for fear of disturbing something he shouldn’t, he sank tendrils of his own energy into the boy, gingerly feeling the shape of the spells already there. A shift. A change. A predetermined alteration. But what kind remained elusive as mist. Softly the Earl laughed to himself. How typical.  

He sat back, humming thoughtfully. These enchantments would be unknown factors, wild cards so to speak. He would need to examine them more before he could guess their function, maybe even having to experiment.

… Well, no time like the present.

Carefully he used a small syringe to release a small amount of Dark Matter into the child’s bloodstream, mindful not to endanger his health. Both Innocence and Dark Matter could be immensely corrosive after all, especially to living tissues.

The result was not what he expected.  

Like dropping ink in water, swirls of color drew the patterns of the invisible currents in delicate curls, slowly condensing in a recognizable shape. The Earl crowed in delight, the brilliant mind of his apprentice amazing him once more. He couldn't discern how or why but _somehow_ his student had made the boy capable of integrating Dark Matter into his body as if it _belonged_ to him. It even twined around the slumbering Innocence, weaving Dark and Light together to form a smooth veil of conflicting influences. Soothed with a delicate echo of music, distantly ringing like hammer and anvil forging steel together.  

It was a miracle.  

For long moments the Earl could only stare as if in a daze at the pulsing weave he saw with his mind, Innocence and Dark Matter mingling into a undulating sea, only the glow of the waves betraying the differences between them. It left him breathless with its beauty, the potential beyond anything he’d ever imagined.  

It was _exactly_ what he needed. 

But immediately he also realized the dangers. He would have to be very careful. He didn’t know how far his apprentice had gotten before his untimely death and there was a good chance Allen wouldn’t be able to take more than a few slivers of Dark Matter before the strain would start to harm him. Together with the Innocence there would be an incredible pressure within the young body. No, it would take some throughout studying before he could risk giving the child more.

Maybe it would be best to treat it as a safety net, allowing him to make some Dark based alterations without having to worry about corroding Allen’s body. Thoughtfully he tapped his chin.

The Earl sighed. Clearly he wouldn’t be able to get any more done before he had given this intriguing discovery some considerable thought. Not that he could be bothered to be disappointed.

He shook his head. One thing was confirmed for sure, he’d never truly understand the man that had been his apprentice. It was obvious him getting Allen wasn’t the lucky coincident he’d first believed it to be. It took a special kind of person to orchestrate something of this magnitude and how that man had predicted everything he had no clue. Even beyond death Neah continued to baffle him.

The Earl smiled. Despite all his past doubts it seemed that in the end taking that man as his apprentice had been a good decision. Who would have thought?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Before people start bringing out the flamethrowers: no, I’m not trying to ridicule religious people with this chapter; or God for that matter. I feel I must mention that the only problems I’ve ever had with religion were with people who tried to force their believes on others, which I think is justified. No one likes being told what to believe. I myself don’t believe in any particular god but am willing to consider the existence of one or more entities of such nature. However, if such beings exist I’ve never seen any sign of them and frankly don’t believe they would really bother with us. I mean, would you pay loads of attention to ants? Because if I understand the stories, that is what we would be compared to them. Also, if they really were supposed to take care of us or the world, I think they could have done a better job. But maybe that’s just me.
> 
> Again, I’m not trying to insult anyone. The modern science most atheists cling to these days originates from people who were convinced of the existence of higher entities. Some of the greatest works in history have their roots in religion and countries have been formed because of it, just like many important cultural characteristics like basic morals and values. Many behavioral patterns have their roots in history, which is drenched with religion. Like I said before, I have absolutely no problem with people who belief. I just don’t feel it’s necessary to commit myself to such a thing.
> 
> As for Allen’s view on God, remember life seriously screwed him over several times already and he hasn’t even reached puberty yet. In such cases two things can happen. Either he turns to religion believing his suffering has meaning and God is looking out for him, therefore making it more bearable. Or he says 'screw the bastard that gave me this shitty life, why on earth should I be grateful?' and decides never to waste time on it again. Obviously Allen falls into the latter category. Even in the manga he only became an exorcist for the akuma’s sake and to atone for what he did to Mana. As far as I could see, Allen never mentions any form of affection for either the church or God.
> 
> I hope this clarifies things. Of course, if you still feel the need to comment, please feel free to do so. My only request is you try to remain civilized despite any ire you might feel. I know religion can be a sensitive topic, but shouting matches won’t do anything except damage my opinion of you.
> 
> PS. I don’t know if there are other versions of Reever’s name floating about but once again this was the name used in the manga.
> 
> Reviews and feedback are welcome.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time I reach double digits! Yay!

A frowning Road, Wisely decided, was oddly disturbing. He could count the number of times he’d seen that expression on his fingers and still have enough left to drink tea with. Luckily he knew why.

“Sooo,” he drawled. “I heard you almost got the Earl’s dear little project killed?”

Road glared.

“Ouch, you look like someone stole all your candy.”

“… It was not my fault,” she muttered darkly.

“Really? Because from what I heard you let him wander around on his own.” Wisely arched an eyebrow. “Did the Earl scold you?”

“I was _watching_ him!”

“Apparently not enough. Tell me, did you thank Lulubell already?”

Road’s scowl was practically a work of art. Wisely wanted to smile, he really did, but becoming a candle-pincushion wasn’t what he called appealing.

Then Road’s face fell. Wisely blinked. _That was unexpected_.

“… He was mad at me,” she whispered.

And instantly he understood, anxiety like heavy mist in her thoughts as it parted and revealed to him the reason _why_. From her memories, ‘mad’ was a bit too strong a word – he would have called it ‘annoyed’ – but the Earl rarely displayed such displeasure towards her. And Road had been just a _child_ when her Noah awakened. It didn’t matter how long she had lived, somewhere in there was still that little twelve year old girl and all the insecurities that came with it. And the Earl was the only one she looked up to. She loved the other Noah, deeply, but as _siblings_. And the displeasure of a sibling was rarely anything but amusing. The Earl, on the other hand…

She glared at him. “Don’t do that.”

He sighed and slung an arm around her shoulders. “Geez, don’t make such a drama out of it. He was just telling you not to do it again. As if he’d ever stay mad at you.”

He could feel the tension drain out of her shoulders. Hell, he was always amazed when he realized exactly how much she cared behind that cute-little-sadist persona. His expression softened. “Road, seriously, don’t torture yourself. You’re family. He adores you. What on earth made you doubt?”

“… He said he’d retract my reward for keeping that Fallen One under control.”

Wisely’s jaw dropped. Wow. Just… wow. That was _harsh_. What had brought that on? “Seriously?” he choked. “I know the tiny exorcist is a good catch, but- really?”

She nodded.

“Did he bother to explain why?”

She frowned thoughtfully and shook her head.

O-kay. That was it. He grabbed her arm and started dragging. It didn’t take long for her to catch his intentions. Wisely couldn’t help but feel pleased. Scheming suited Road’s face much better.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Allen woke stiff and aching but somehow more energetic at the same time. He didn’t know whether to be glad or creeped out.

The Earl was mindlessly chattering to him while the drug wore off. It was amusing to find the similarities between the Earl and his family. Or rather, Road, as he had not met Wisely and the other Noah for more than a few minutes.

He was surprised how easy it was to talk to the Earl. Somehow the Earl had the same distracted air of mild insanity as Mana. Combined with the weird costume and general cheerfulness the man felt entirely too familiar for his tastes. He wasn’t sure he could handle such a strong reminder, though he surprised himself by feeling more nostalgic than depressed. He wasn’t sure what to think of that.

Both silly and serious, with an intelligence one just did not expect from someone looking that ridiculous. It was bloody annoying, that was what it was. The lump in his throat was just his imagination.

The door burst open and two familiar Noah entered, with Wisely in the lead. Huh. He’d expect it to be the other way around.

Road chirped a greeting while the older Noah just nodded in his direction, before both of them subjected the Earl to an intense focus. What was that about?

Clearly something he wasn’t supposed to hear, he deduced a moment later. He was shoved out of the door quite unceremoniously with the instruction to ‘just wait here and don’t go wandering’. 

Allen wondered if he should feel annoyed at the dismissal. He understood it wasn’t his business but he still felt wobbly and ‘just wait here’ was kinda vague. At least when Mana had shoved him out of the living wagon he did it with a _bit_ more explanation than a look and a wave.

Shuffling on unsteady feet he found himself a seat on a nearby bench, deciding to wait first before undertaking further action. _And it isn’t like the view isn’t interesting_ , Allen thought, watching something big go _boom_ a good distance away in a fountain of colors and smoke. It really upset the Skulls. Allen grinned and made himself more comfortable.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

“Sooo,” Wisely summed up, “Allen’s some weird experiment of Neah?” He remembered the guy. Nice bloke. Wisely had made the mistake of trying to read his thoughts only once. That had _hurt._ Like, worst hangover _ever_. Looking into that man’s head had been like the weirdest mushroom-induced trip he’d ever seen. And he’d seen a lot. He hadn’t been exactly what you’d call high on the social ladder before he turned, and drugs were so easy to get when you knew were to go looking.

Neah’s mind had been all fragments and rainbows and a maelstrom of sensations he couldn’t tell heads or tails from. And the never ending music, weaving though the facets of scattered memories and holding them together, connecting them and dancing in their reflections in oddly soothing tunes.

Yeah, that headache had been bad.

“So what does it do?” He asked, curious what that man had come up with.

“Do?~” The Earl questioned.

“It’s an experiment, right? What can it do?”

“My dear, you seem to be under the impression Allen isn’t human.~”

Wisely raised a brow. “He’s human?”

“Hmm, mostly,~” The Earl nodded. “Neah altered him.~”

“Really? Altered how?” Road asked.

“He can see akuma souls and has been able to absorb a few slivers of Dark Matter.~”

Wisely let out a low whistle.

“Indeed,~” The Earl grinned. “Be careful no harm befalls him.~”

The white-haired Noah sighed dejectedly. “Babysitting? Really?”

“Yes.~ Now chop, chop children. I still have lots to do.~”

Another sigh. “As you wish, Millennium Earl.”

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

“Hey Allen, are you hungry?”

Allen jumped a bit, startled, and glowered at the slender Noah. “I’m _not_ dressing up again.”

“Aww,” Road pouted, “But you were so cute!”

 _“It’s okay Allen, it looks very cute on you.”_ Damn Mana. Damn costume. And trice damned Road, for sounding just like him. He hoped she’d burn in Hell.

“I’m. not. _Cute,_ ” Allen bit out.

Wisely snickered.

“ _Anyway,_ ” Road smiled, “ _We_ are going to have lunch and _you_ are going to help me with something.”

“… What?” Allen asked warily. 

“Manners, Allen. You are supposed to ask ‘and what might I help you with, Mistress Road?’.” She sniffed.

Allen turned away. “Never mind, I don’t wanna know.” If she was starting like that he was sure it was trouble. 

Wisely however, wasn’t that wise. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it, Road?”

A blinding smile. “Homework!” 

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Allen stared dejectedly at the pile of books that had replaced his plate. He’d already lost track of what they were about and he’d only read – or rather: attempted to read – the covers. “Um… I’ve never been to school.”

 “Neither have I,” Wisely muttered, tapping his pencil on the table top.

 “Not?” That was strange. The way the Noah carried himself he’d pegged him as _at least_ middle class, and those always had some form of education as far as he knew.

 ”You’re supposed to call me Master,” Wisely said absently, ignoring Allen’s face crumpling in distaste for the title. “And no. Before my Noah awakened I was a- well, ‘vagabond’ would be as good a word as any.”

“What do you mean with ‘awakened’, Master Wisely?” Hey, he could be polite! If it earned him something. Manners were just a means to an end, another weapon in your arsenal. Just not one he used very often.

“Exactly what it says. First I was a human. Then my Noah awakened. And now I’m a Noah. Why do you want to know?” Golden met Allen’s grey, coolly curious.

“Er…” Would Wisely get mad if he didn’t want to tell? 

A smirk. “Let me guess. Is it something along the lines of ‘you don’t know anything about us and want to know what kind of creatures you’ll have to obey’?”

“Um…” Kind of, like, exactly his reason, yes. It was just self-preservation really. How had he known?

“You’re easy to read.”

Allen gaped, mortified. No way. Just _no way._ He knew he might not be the best liar but he’d never been ‘easy to read’. If he’d been he would have been _dead._ Only Mana could ever tell whether he was lying, but that was _Mana._ Mana didn’t count. Not when it came to that.

“You make interesting faces,” Wisely sniggered. The combination of mortification, indignation and wounded pride made an interesting expression indeed.

“Aw, don’t fret, Allen,” he soothed mockingly. “It’s just another unfair advantage us Noah have over puny mortals. Or I have, to be precise.”

It took a few long moments for that statement to sink in and get in touch with a couple of other facts, but then Allen’s eyes went wide. Pale, he licked his lips and whispered, “You can read thoughts.”

Wisely gave him a smile that had too many teeth. “And memories. I have some other abilities as well but I won’t burden you with them for now.”

Then the Noah laughed. Road, who’d been following the conversation, giggled too.

“My, you look ready to faint,” the white-haired Noah chuckled as his mirth died down a bit. “Why so shocked, Allen? Is my ability that much more surreal than Road’s? Or…” He brought his face close, peering into too wide orbs, “Is it that you have bad thoughts about us? Something you want to keep hidden, maybe?”

 _Too close. He’s too close, too close, tooclosetooclose-!_ With a yell he punched Wisely out of the way and scrambled out of the chair. With pounding heart he made a break for the door, slamming his back against it when it turned out to be locked.

Road, recovered from her initial surprise, had dissolved into peals of laughter as Wisely rubbed his reddened cheek, looking both annoyed and embarrassed.

“Right. Note to self: don’t corner a street rat,” the older Noah muttered, much to the amusement of the younger.

Allen kept a sharp eye on the both of them, ignoring the pain in his hand with practiced ease. Their reaction was extraordinarily mild so far, but that could turn as fast as a leaf in a storm. And no, he wasn’t remembering Kojimo, that cursed clown. He hoped the Earl would be able to find him.

When after a few seconds the Noah still made no move to come after him, Allen gathered his courage. Warily he approached, carefully gauging the Noah’s reaction. They seemed mostly curious what he would do.

Stiffly and awkwardly he knelt at Wisely’s feet. Softly he said, “I apologize Master. I should have controlled my reflexes better.”

“You’re not sorry. You just don’t want to face the consequences of punching me,” Wisely observed flippantly. He snickered when Allen paled again, the little color he’d regained fleeing as if Road was chasing it with pointy candles.

 _Blasted mindreading._ That thought earned Allen a mean smirk. And Wisely was right. He wasn’t sorry. Except maybe for himself. _Worst Noah power so far._

Allen opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted when Road cheerfully jumped on his back, startling him and almost making him lose balance. Oddly enough the impact was far milder than he would have expected. Which would mean she was a lot lighter than her size indicated. And she already didn’t have much to begin with. What else was there that he didn’t know?

“A lot,” Wisely replied.

Road’s thin fingers playfully combed his hair, which just resulted  a bigger mess. “Don’t worry, Allen. We Noah are not as fragile as humans. A little akuma like you won’t hurt us that easily.”

In a way that was reassuring. On the other hand though… not. More like something else to worry about.

“But of course we can’t just let disrespect like that pass. I’m sure you understand.”

Of course. It was nothing new. Nor was in any way comforting. Fear clawing at his insides, Allen kept quiet. He didn’t want to think about what kind of punishments creatures like the Noah would be able to dish out. Imagination was a terrible thing.

“I understand, Mistress Road,” he answered morosely.

“Aw, you’re such a clever pet.” Allen’s eyebrow developed a tic. “As punishment for attacking Wisely you won’t leave until all my homework is finished!”

Allen blinked. _Is she for real?_ He eyed the stacks of books and sheets and hurriedly nodded, knowing there could be far worse punishments.

Wisely shook his head. “You have no idea.”

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

 He took it back. This _was_ a cruel punishment. Allen had never felt this stupid before. Math he could manage, albeit slowly and with lots of notes. Even if he sometimes barely understood the questions. Mana had done his best in the little time between the shows and chores and practices. And hey, he could read and knew his numbers. Ought to be enough, right? Well, apparently not.

What the bloody hell was Berlin? Since when did rivers have names that sounded like snoring? Why would _he_ have to know where everything was? It was Road’s bloody homework! _She_ was the one that could make doors to places! Can’t make a door when you don’t know where it’s supposed to go, right? At least, that was how he thought it worked. It seemed logical. So why wasn’t _she_ doing this?

He sighed. His brain felt like a brutally wrung out sponge and a headache was sneaking it’s way in. It was already pounding behind his eyes and was well on its way to conquer the rest. He was sure it wasn’t healthy.

Allen’s only consolation was that Wisely was doing just marginally better than him.

Downside was that Wisely was bored out of his skull and sought to distract himself every few minutes. Often it boiled down to him annoying Allen. Which reduced Allen’s already slow pace to the crawl of a crippled snail. Road was of course quietly laughing at his predicament. Tyrannical minger. Though it was kinda funny when she threatened Wisely.

 _Aaand_ said Noah was raising his eyebrow at him. Again. Yeah, that guy really had the worst power. Allen might come to hate him just for that.

“Now that’s cruel,” Wisely said, sounding not at all hurt.

Allen groaned. This was going to be a long afternoon.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

“… Whoa. What are you guys doing?”

“Tyki!”

Allen looked up from where he’d planted his face in the Atlas. Books were nice and soft compared to some of the things he’d slept on. Not that he’d been sleeping. He was just… taking a closer look.

Road had taken the arrival of the newcomer as an excuse to launch herself at someone. He was starting to believe that was her normal behavior. Allen took the opportunity to get a better look at the newcomer as he was busy prying the smallest Noah off of him. _Tall_ was the first impression, followed close by _handsome_ and _well dressed_ and- huh. Noah. Another one. He couldn’t say he was entirely surprised, especially when the Earl followed him in. Idly he wondered what kind of powers this one had. He really hoped it wasn’t another Wisely. Which reminded him…

Carefully he shook the softly snoring lump next to him. “Master Wisely, Master Earl is here.”

“Urgh, Road, get off me!” _Deep voice_ , Allen noted. From the looks of it the guy had been quite the lady-killer before he – what was the term again? – awakened as Noah. Allen estimated him to be in his twenties, thirty at most.

“Whazzit?” Wisely mumbled, sluggishly trying to bat his hand away.

“Master Earl is here.”

“Oh.” Wisely yawned and offered a feeble wave at the newcomer, who gave him and the surrounding piles a look. And groaned.

“Don’t tell me you just called me here to do homework?” The man shot the Earl an exasperated look. Heh, seemed like Allen and Wisely weren’t the only ones drafted by the diabolical Road to do her biding. Okay, maybe that was a bit melodramatic. Homework still sucked.

… And the newcomer had finally noticed him.

“Oi. Who’s the little tyke over there?” Allen scowled at the man. He might be short for his age but _little?_ That was just insulting.

“An akuma the Earl is working on.”

“He doesn’t feel like an akuma,” the new Noah said, raising a brow. Allen started. Noah could feel akuma?

“He’s been damaged.”

Gold eyed the cross on his left hand, quite visible were he rested it on the table. Why? Road had done that too, now that he thought about it. What was up with that?

“… Damaged. Really.” The man shrugged. “Well, I’m sure it’s an interesting story, but frankly I’m famished.”

Well, at least the guy had good suggestions. Allen’s stomach growled.

“And it seems the little guy is too.”

The Earl chuckled. “Diner will be served soon.~ Now, Tyki, this is Allen. An exorcist did quite a number on him.~” Tyki blinked. “Allen, this is Tyki Mikk. He’s another one of my family, as you might have guessed.~” Tyki took of his top hat and made an theatrical bow. Allen snorted and pasted a charming smile on his face as he responded with an even more exaggerated gesture. “A pleasure, Master Mikk.”

Tyki’s laugh was joined by Road’s giggles and the Earl’s chuckling. Wisely just shook his head with a smile. “Tyki is fine, boy.”

“Master Tyki, then.” Allen smiled disarmingly, deciding he kinda liked Tyki’s laidback attitude. He hoped it would last. The guy was quite friendly for someone wearing such posh clothing. And being a Noah.

“So,” Road said sweetly, batting her eyes at Tyki, “You’ll help?”

“Er…”

Allen sniggered. Tyki shot him a reproachful look.

“I feel your pain,” Allen said with an innocent smile. Now the glare came from Road. Tyki bit back a laugh and winked. Ruffled Road’s hair. “Let’s focus on dinner, hm? Before the poor boy and I starve.”

Allen wholeheartedly agreed.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

In the end they all helped out. Even the Earl, who filled entire pages in the time it took Allen to read one question. And, to Allen’s shock, Lero. How the umbrella managed to write with a pencil in his mouth he couldn’t phantom, but somehow it worked.

Tyki, who apparently also hadn’t gone to school – which was weird as he looked every inch the upper class – turned out to be a better help than Wisely. Though that could be because of the longer attention span. At least Tyki managed to do five assignments before putting his pencil down in annoyance. The man made his escape soon after, with a card from the Earl in his pocket. Something about a task. It was probably more interesting than homework. Allen was kind of jealous.

Road, to his infinite annoyance, clearly found the work quite easy. She had just been too lazy to do it all herself. He had to fight the urge to bounce one of the books off her head. It was all very frustrating.

He had no idea what time it was when Lero finally guided him to his room, but it felt as if his head had barely hit the pillows before Wisely was poking him awake for another session with the Earl. At least he didn’t bring a ridiculous costume like Road had.

“Ah, so I do have some redeeming qualities,” the Noah joked.

Allen yawned and muttered something unintelligible. The bad qualities still exceeded the good ones in his opinion.

“Ouch.”

“Quit reading my thoughts,” Allen muttered.

“Seems the morning made you cheeky.”

Allen froze.

Wisely sniggered. “You should see your face.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Allen said sarcastically, now wary to let his guard down. The Noah were so fickle when they felt like it.

“Starting tomorrow you’re going to have lessons with the Skulls. Earl’s orders.”

Conversational whiplash. Yup, _really_ fickle. Allen blinked, dumbfounded. “What?”

Wisely just smiled.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Road was humming as she skipped towards through the storage rooms. She stopped at one of the many cages lining the walls and bowed forward to watch the person inside, who wore a ragged costume and was chained into a kneeling position. Smears of dirty grime and something dark covered his face.

“Ah, so you’re the one Allen wants.”

The man coughed. “… Allen?” he rasped.

“Uhuh,~” she smiled. “You really shouldn’t have taken your anger out on him.”

“… I don’t know an ‘Allen’, ya crazy bint,” The man in the cage growled. “I ain't got nothing ta do with monsters!”

“Crazy?” Road’s face twisted in a pout. “How rude!”

“Lemme out!”

Road smiled sweetly and waved a finger at him. “No, no, I can’t do that.~ You see, Allen wants _revenge.”_ She clapped her hands and giggled like a little girl. “And the Earl wants him to take it.”

The man snarled. “Who the bloody hell's Allen? Release meh and I’ll teach the damn nutter not ta mess with meh!”

“Aw, but you _know_ Allen. You used to beat him up, every night you were drunk and managed to get your hands on him. The little kid who _swore_ you’d pay for it. Don’t you remember?~”

The man gave her an uncomprehending glare.

Road sighed. Humans were so stupid. “Remember _Red?”_

Then it dawned and suddenly Kojimo looked very pale and worried. Road grinned. They were also fun to mess with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ‘minger’ is someone who is breathtakingly unattractive. A ‘nutter’ is someone with a screw loose. Nutter applies to both the “insane” or “reckless” definitions, so a gentleman who scaled the Eiger naked and a chap who ate both of his parents could both validly be “nutters,” albeit in slightly different ways. 
> 
> Yes people, you got that right! I looked up British swear words! And they’re fun. Should have done that ages ago. As Allen is in fact British I’ve been slowly breaking him from the overly common ‘fuck’ (I kind of regret using that at first; maybe I’ll go change it later), and instead am experimenting with some nice, unfamiliar, but still pleasantly sounding British insults. I hope you all can appreciate them.


	11. Chapter 11

 

“Well, that wraps it up for today, Allen.~"

Stiffly rising from the examination table Allen subtly did some small exercises to loosen his muscles. Lying still for hours every day was doing him no favors. Why fixing his arm was taking so long he didn’t understand. But then again, he didn’t understand how you could turn someone into a living machine either, so maybe that was why.

In the meantime the Earl was putting a load of wire and seemingly unfinished devices away. Allen still didn’t know what they were for. He really had to find out one of these days, they were way too unsettling to leave alone.

“Why don’t you go and find a place to wait for dinner, hmm?~ Road will be able to find you without problem. Unfortunately she’s a bit busy right now, but I’ll make sure she’ll seek you out soon,~” The Earl suggested in a way that wasn't actually a suggestion.

Dubiously, Allen nodded. While very reluctant to spend more time with the willowy girl, he acknowledged the wisdom of not letting him wander about by himself. It had been several weeks since he’d arrived and still he could barely find the way from his room to the dining hall. Which was mostly a straight line with a few turns. The Noah kept an eye on him the whole time he was awake and annoying as it was, it was also really helpful.

And he'd gotten better at dealing with their weirdness. Wisely was no longer answering his thoughts every time, apparently having decided it was more amusing to jump it on him at unexpected times. Road was just being her disturbingly cheerful self. Now and again she made him wear one of her posh menaces, but none was as frilly as the first. Thank God for small mercies. Plus, she had quit subtly threatening him every hour, though that could also be because he'd gotten better at keeping his head down and ignoring his instincts.

Instead Road had convinced him to teach her some circus tricks.

“Because that would be really awesome,” the little Noah had said flippantly. “Just think of how great it would be if I could juggle and throw knives!”

Allen had thought about it and had shivered in dread. Road could pull off Damn Scary easily enough _without_ the addition of pointy steel and sharp edges flittering around her. And she already had her candles. She was bloody scary with those candles. If she worked in a circus her stage name would be Little Miss Sadistic, or something. 

No, it was very important she would _not_ learn to throw knives. Not that he said that to her face. Instead he had suggested she'd try some other things. As subtly as he could manage. 

Luckily Wisely had backed him up on that and said nothing about the deceit. Good to know the other Noah were wary of her too.

“Why don't you first try balancing?” Allen had offered in a hopefully unnoticeably desperate manner. He didn't think he'd completely succeeded in keeping the panic from his face, but at least he hadn't really failed either. Otherwise Road would never have agreed, no matter how grudgingly. “Lero would be able to carry you a lot faster then.” 

And it was probably true. Opened and with someone hanging from his handle Lero could only move fast upwards, the other directions going only slightly quicker than walking. Closed, with someone seated on top of him? Allen was sure moving fast forwards was more convenient. And swerving might be easier too. It was worth a try. 

Still, the glint in Road's eye had told him she hadn't given up on the knives yet. Which was a problem for another time. For now it was postponed. Thank goodness. 

He sighed. Road unsettled him the most. Granted, he didn't really interact with the other Noah aside from Wisely, but really, the others couldn't be worse, right? Road was scary, plain and simple. Especially because you were never entirely sure where you stood with her. Sometimes she looked like a cat playing with her food – him being the food, much to his dismay – and other times you would never even suspect her having a side like that if you didn't meet it personally. Those times she'd be singing and playing and, well, basically acting the way you'd expect from her appearance. She was confusing and set every nerve on edge, but she could be sweet too. He'd never been so embarrassed as when she'd walked in on him crying when the reminders of Mana and his beloved circus had become too much. Yet she'd just sat next to him and stroked his hair, humming a quietly cheerful tune and later seemed to have completely forgotten about it. 

It was what Mana would have done, except it hadn't been the right tune. That had _hurt._  

And because of that he couldn't bring himself to hate her. Not really. Instead he just disliked her. 

He sighed and opened the door he thought was the exit. 

“Oh, you might not want to go that way, child.~ I asked Road to take care of some trash.~” 

Registering the Earl’s warning too late, Allen froze at the sight in front of him. Slowly his fists clenched. Damn the Noah. And damn himself. Again. He knew. He _knew_. And yet…

They made it easy – so bloody _easy_ – to forget they were _not human_ . With their teasing and weird sense of kindness and general insanity- it was almost as if Mana had split into multiple persona's and had returned as if he had never left. It had been so _familiar._ Worse, in a way it _was_. And he – foolish as if was – had hoped he would be allowed to believe it. And kept hoping, his stupid heart not listening to reason. 

But the sight that met his eyes rubbed his nose into the fact that all the familiarity was just sugarcoating the situation, glossing over the fact that he was in the presence of people who were out to erase every single human from existence. Frilly dresses and nice gestures didn’t change that. 

Before him, still wearing the elaborate knee-length dress she’d worn to breakfast, Road stood on top of what could only be described as a pyre. At her feet laid the mutilated bodies of several humans, all looking as if they’d been mauled by something nasty. She was humming as she carefully poured a foul reeking liquid over the corpses, casual as if she was watering plants. 

Repulsed, Allen slammed the door closed, but the scene was already etched into his memory. He shuddered. He had seen many revolting things in his life, including some ‘punishments’ a few of the more creatively violent gangs meted out to trespassers, but something what looked like a young girl burning people was a new one. It definitely ranked somewhere near the top of his Most Disturbing list, which also included things old men got up to in the presence of young girls and several mind-influencing drugs, and Eight Uncomfortable Places To Shove A Bottle. The last one was an unfortunate souvenir of ending up hiding in the same alley were a couple of barkeepers from the bad parts of town decided to teach a thief some lessons. 

 _And yet... Mana could be cruel too._ All he had to do was remember the thief.

 _But he wasn't cruel like_ that. Not that terrible, frighteningly casual cruelty the Noah displayed. So casual you'd miss it if you weren't staring dead bodies in the face. Or actually knew the victims they were talking about. Not that he did. 

 _Still..._ He _did_ understand somewhat. The streets had taught him all about the ugliness of human nature. And if you wanted to get rid of something you couldn't allow yourself feel sorry for it. Humans wouldn't if they would discover the Noah and their goals. So mercy was something the Noah, few as they appeared to be, couldn't afford. 

And it wasn't as if they were human, so human morals didn't really apply. 

Still didn't make it easier to witness. 

The Earl was eying his face with a thoughtful expression. “Hmm, maybe you'd prefer to go with Lero instead of waiting.~” 

Swallowing, Allen nodded. “I do, Master Earl.” He bowed. “Thank you for your consideration.” 

The Earl just waved him off. 

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX 

 _Well,_ Allen thought, _at least I still got my appetite._  

You could never be sure after all. He could deal with a lot of things thanks to his past, and food was so important that not eating when he could went against every instinct he had, but sometimes you came across something so disturbing you couldn't help but see it flash in front of you every time you wanted to take a bite. It could be very off-putting. 

A scene like he'd just witnessed could have very well fallen into that category, but luckily it seemed it hadn't. Though he couldn't really enjoy the wonderful dishes in front of him. Extravagant and delicious, but unfortunately not enough to completely drown out the bad taste in his mouth, or soothe the weird coiling of his stomach. He wondered about the latter. Most of his life had been one big bad taste, so no surprise there, but he'd never felt that odd sensation before. If he had to compare it to anything he'd say it was closest to excitement, which was ridiculous. It was probably just an after-effect of the anesthetic. 

Trying to put the disturbing image out of his mind, he took another bite. Hmm, yes, _so_ much better to focus on the delicious food. And just ignore the bad taste, it would go away on its own.

He was halfway through his second plate when the door banged open. He wasn't even startled. It happened way to often for that. 

“Allen, come! The Earl got you a present!” Road, being as cheerful as always. She was still wearing the dress from before. The smell of charcoaled flesh lingered around her, subtle as expensive perfume and all the more revolting for it.

He breathed shallowly through his mouth in an attempt to avoid it. The few wisps he did caught caused the odd sensation in his stomach to become stronger, snaking into his blood. It was really starting to disturb him. 

“Now?” he asked. He hadn't finished lunch yet, which was as good an excuse as any to stall. He was often hungry nowadays and even Road's smell didn't do much against it. On the streets he'd smelled much worse. It was knowing the origin of the smell that made him queasy. And the effect it had on his insides. 

Road tapped her chin in thought. “Well, I guess it can wait until you're finished,” she said slowly. “More fun for me!” With that ominous statement she gave Lero a look that conveyed he'd better bring Allen soon. Then she skipped back to where she came from. 

Allen sighed and stared at his food, wondering whether he'd still be able to get it through his throat. 

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX 

Approaching a part of the Ark he was quite sure he hadn't been before, Allen couldn't deny that he was curious about this so-called present. What would the Earl want to give to _him?_ He was an akuma, just a machine that had been slightly more successful than others. You didn't give presents to _weapons_. Even when they were sentient. What use would that be? And even if there was some logical explanation, why didn't he just give it this morning?

“Hey, Lero, do you know what this is all about?” 

“Lero knows, but Master Earl said Lero shouldn't tell, Lero,” the umbrella answered. “It is a surprise, Master said.” 

Allen sighed. _Well, it was worth a try. Guess I'll just have to be patient._  

On the inside his instincts were going haywire. Something was up. Something big. Something the Noah believed to be important. 

And it involved him. He didn't like that. Not that they would allow him to avoid it. Road would be able to force him to attend all on her own, not to mention with some akuma at her disposal. He shook his head. All he could do was wait it out and hope it wouldn't be too bad. 

Big double doors swung inward, revealing a room shrouded in shadows and candlelight. Like a lot of other rooms this one had a chessboard-pattern on the floor and was illuminated by floating candles and pumpkins with faces. At the heart of a circular, well illuminated area stood the Earl with two Noah at his side. Road and Wisely. Of course. 

“Ah, there you are! Come here, child,~” the Earl said. On the inside Allen frowned, becoming more and more suspicious. What was the Earl so excited about? 

Drawing politeness around him like a cloak, Allen bowed. “Master Earl, Mistress Road, Master Wisely, my apologies we took so long.” 

“Quite alright, Allen, quite alright.~ Now that you are here we can proceed. Road, if you would be so good?~” The Earl rubbed his hands. 

Road grinned and performed a mocking bow, like an artist before her act, before snapping her fingers. Several candles blazed to life, expanding the illuminated area. The light fell upon a kneeling figure, features still too darkened to discern. The person was clad in colorful rags which twinged his memory unpleasantly. Allen frowned. 

“Shortly after you returned into my care you requested to be allowed to meet someone,~” the Earl said, as if he was merely mentioning the weather.

Allen's eyes went wide. “Kojimo,” he breathed. With a smirk Road lit the last few candles, revealing the hated face of his old tormentor. Kojimo glared at him, but gagged and bound and _helpless,_ he couldn't hide the fear he was feeling. It was even more satisfying than Allen had expected. 

“Master Earl?” he asked. No matter how good it felt to see the man at the Noah's nonexistent mercy, his instincts were still singing with barely restrained tension. Something was up. The Earl wasn't doing this just for him. He expected to gain something with this. But what? 

The Earl didn't answer, just watched with a never fading grin, cruel excitement gleaming behind round glasses. Instead Wisely put a hand on his shoulder and handed him an oddly shaped package, wrapped in purple cloth with a white bow. He stared at it, completely thrown. What on earth was up with them? 

“Come on,~” Road sang, “Open it!” 

Warily Allen did as he was told. A beautiful dagger fell into his hand, its sheath covered with golden curls and the image of a leaping bobcat. He raised a brow. _What the-_  

He never finished that thought. He knew how to put two and two together. “You want me to kill him?” he asked, just to verify. 

The Noah smirked at him. Wisely patted his shoulder. “Show us what you can do, little akuma.” 

Allen stilled. Those words stirred something in him, like a great beast waking in his stomach, just an indiscernible lump until it sleepily yawned to reveal gleaming fangs. His heart beat quickened its pace and his breath became shallower.

 _Kill him._ Allen licked his lips, nervous. To buy a little time he unsheathed the dagger, coming face to face with his reflection, the red of his scar vivid against his pale face. The blade was clean and flawless, the edges glinting with the promise of effortless injury. 

 _Kill Kojimo_. Allen couldn't deny he had thought about that, especially during long nights spent in pain and misery, nursing injuries and wounded pride. Once he'd longed for it and wouldn't have hesitated given the chance. But Mana had woken the good in him. Mana would never kill, unless someone left him no choice. 

 _But Mana is dead._  

Ugly thought. Mana had always been the one to keep him on the straight and narrow, declining revenge for the most inane reasons. Even when there really wasn't much of a downside. Allen _had_ suggested revenge, back when they left that particular circus behind them, and had long ago figured out a way to get away with it. But Mana had said no, said it wasn't worth it, and that they could better start traveling and just leave the past behind them.

But looking into Kojimo's unshaven mug, remembering every moment of hate-filled pain beneath the older man's rough hands, he couldn't help but think, _you can never truly leave the past behind._ It wasn't a piece of luggage you could drop into a ditch somewhere and never see back again. It stayed with you, like his crime against Mana would mar him for the rest of his existence. 

And as long as he lived, he would dread meeting the older clown again. Unless Kojimo was dead and history. The only memory that would remain would be the pain and hate and the sweet satisfaction of his blood on his hands, like lemonade after a day working in the blazing sun. 

 _I've already killed._ And killing, as it had turned out, was awfully, frighteningly easy.

Like the old man. Like the exorcist. Oh God, he'd been so sick with grief about that one! Could he bear to go through that again? 

… _No._ No, he couldn't. Even now, guilt gnawed at him, though far less strongly than before. Nowhere near what he felt about Mana. After all, unlike his father, the exorcist had tried to kill him. It had only been fair. Still... He re-sheathed the dagger and worried his lip. 

“Allen.” His attention snapped to the white-haired Noah. Wisely smiled. “You're forgetting an important factor. You're an _akuma._ You were _built_ to kill.”

The Earl nodded, apparently understanding what the problem was. Or maybe Wisely somehow clued him in without talking. Allen honestly wouldn't be surprised. “Allen, you were damaged. Of course your reactions were off.~ I assume this is about the exorcist, hmm?~” 

Allen nodded warily. Surely they weren't going to tell him he couldn't trust his own instincts, now would they? 

“There are certain reactions that are natural for an akuma, and some of them involve killing, as you are indeed built for that purpose.~ The exorcist damaged several of the processes that allow an akuma to function normally. One was the issue with your recognition program, of which you've already experienced the effects.~” 

Allen unconsciously covered his eye with his hand, shuddering at the memory of the monstrous apparitions. 

“An other, less noticeable effect, was your reaction to violence.~ If I remember well you felt terrible after killing that person, even when you yourself admitted it had been perfectly reasonable.~” 

“So what you're saying, Master...,”Allen said slowly. “Is that this time I would feel different about it?” 

The Earl nodded. “As you should.~” 

Allen chewed his lip, aimlessly following the patterns on the dagger with his finger. Huffed, frustrated. He didn't want to feel that terrible again, ever. He hated how his own body had rebelled against that which, when it came down to it, had simply been _survival._ But the Earl was right too. He barely remembered killing the old man. And though he remembered the person in the alley, he'd mostly been horrified because he'd been reminded about the day he killed Mana. That person he couldn't really bring himself to care about. 

And though he'd never forget Mana, back then he'd still been human. Sort of. 

He took a breath and unsheathed the dagger again. _What should I do, Mana?_  

In his reflection the red star was a blaze of color in a background of near black-and-white. For one heartbeat he closed his eyes. Opened them, like grey flints of determination.

 _Mana gave me that. Mana_ wanted _me to be an akuma. And akuma_ kill. 

Kojimo had clearly sensed his decision and struggled heavily against his bonds, growls and panicked noises muffled by the gag. The clown sounded more like an animal than a human. Somehow those desperate noises calmed something in Allen, soothing hesitation and insecurities with quietly vindictive pleasure. God, had he ever sounded that pathetic when the other was beating him? He hoped not.

A deep breath, shifting his grip on leather-wrapped steel. The handle fitted comfortably in his grip, but was meant for a single hand. Nervous as he was, he didn't really feel comfortable using just one hand. Instead he searched for extra grip on the pommel, shifting and turning until finally he decided _to hell with it,_ and went to stand in front of his past tormentor. 

He knew he was holding the blade awkwardly but apparently the sight was still unsettling enough for Kojimo to release his stress through more distasteful means. All those present wrinkled their nose as the smell started to spread. 

“You're disgusting, you know that?” Allen said, far calmer than he felt. Clumsily he lashed out, drawing crimson and a muffled scream. Allen jumped back, startled, as blood mixed with the tears dripping out of a damaged eye. Kojimo trashed in his bonds, whimpers and curses turning into garbled sounds as the stench of distress gained in strength. Allen gasped softly as the odd feeling in his stomach reared its head, like a hound smelling blood. Against his will excitement began to hum in his veins, lessening the nervous shaking and turning it into something more familiar. Something sharper.

 _Is this how it's supposed to feel?_ Allen wondered, watching blood well up with a detached sort of fascination. He hadn't meant to hit the eye, but the reaction it earned him was... satisfying. 

He shuddered and bit his lip. He could feel the Noah's eyes on him, assessing him and pushing him to continue. And though he couldn't claim fondness for them, he didn't want to disappoint them. Not after all the effort they put in him. They were his masters, the Earl his creator. They didn't _have_ to try to put a damaged tool back together. They could have just as easily left him for the exorcists to pick off, he knew that. That kind of things he'd seen happen often enough. Yet they _hadn't_. 

Another slash, just as clumsy but ending a bit lower, dragging a line of red over the corner of his mouth, down his chin. Kojimo growled like an animal in pain. How fitting.

Well, clearly this wasn't working, so time to change tactics. He went to stand behind the clown, careful to avoid the reeking moisture originating from the man. Fumbling he positioned his blade against the throat the clown was too slow to protect by bowing his head, before taking a deep breath and pulling the blade towards him and to the side, dragging steel though flesh with a slithery whisper that sent shivery tingles down his spine. 

This time he didn't get a small trickle of red. Blood gushed out in fast, irregular spurts, splattering on ground and clothes, drowning Kojimo with his own life. Startled, Allen took a step back as the body convulsed as death staked its claim in crimson, making still-alive muscles fight against its bonds in vain. 

Allen's eyes widened as the odd feeling in his stomach exploded, making him collapse on his knees with a gasp and drop the knife with a ringing clatter. Unfocused, he stared at the floor, pleasure thundering through his veins, electrifying his skin and making him feel absolutely _wonderful._

 _Ah..._  

“Allen?” 

Allen moaned something unintelligible, arms wrapped around himself in an attempt to stay in control. “What's happening?” he whimpered, scared to death by the ecstasy gnawing on his sanity, like waves against a sandcastle. The castle was bound to crumble if the assault lasted too long. He barely felt the slender fingers running through his hair in a soothing motion. 

"D-don't touch me," Allen mumbled, barely audible, hand pressed against his mouth in an attempt to keep himself from making embarrassing noises. He knew he looked downright pathetic and he hated it. 

Road was quiet for a while, as if pondering how to explain. In that time the feeling diminished a little bit, though the memory was fresh enough to make that almost unnoticeable. He carefully avoided looking at the body that had been Kojimo.

“You're suffering from hypersensitivity. Like a newly healed wound still hurts at the wrong touch. Akuma are built for killing, so of course you'd find pleasure in it. Until your system has finished calibrating, your reaction to blood will be... violent.”

Violent? He didn't feel violent. More like curling up until the scarily good feeling went away. Though the blood had a really nice color from up close... and smell of crimson and fear was somehow increasing the feeling. New warmth coursed through him. Urgh. This was _bad_. 

“Cali... brating?” And god, how he hated how helpless he sounded. Road muttered soothing nonsense, and for a short while Allen allowed it to help him. Then strong arms lifted him up, carrying him away from the corpse and the smells to lay him down on soft cushions. Soon Road was at his side again, continuing her combing. The distance helped, as did the quiet atmosphere. Allen could feel himself slowly getting calmer, the racing of his heart slowing down until it couldn't be called racing anymore.

“Hmm, repairs are always tricky, child.~ Even if it is successful things are never exactly the same again. So in order to regain normal functioning your body needs to relearn what an ordinary reaction should be like.~” 

Allen blinked sluggishly up at the Earl. “Can't it be sped up, Master?” 

The Earl patted his head. “A little bit. Do you wish for me to do that?~” 

Allen closed his eyes. “Yes, please...” 

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX 

“Really Earl, are you feeling lonely or something? Keep calling me here,-” Tyki waltzed into the lab, humored aggravation coloring his features. His eyes fell on the unconscious human on the Earl's working table. He immediately recognized the child's hair color. “What? The boy? _Again?_ Really, how long will you keep tinkering?” 

“Allen's reaction to the blood was too severe.~ I believe I made a slight miscalculation in his dosage.~” 

“Can't you simply adjust it from the outside?” 

“This way is easier, and I need to add something anyway.~” 

Tyki sighed. The last couple of weeks he'd visited the lab more than he had all the previous years. At least every two days he'd be called because the Earl wanted him to use his ability. Now don't take him wrong, he was very fond of his Noah power. Unfortunately, the Earl was too. By now he'd placed so many experimental devices inside the boy that together they almost outweighed the kid. Granted, almost all of them were taken out again the next time and discarded for a better prototype, but still. That was an awful lot. “So what do I have to do?” 

“Take out the hormone-regulator, I'll be with you soon.~” 

The hormone-regulator. Sure. He turned to the kid and took of his gloves. Paused. “Um...” 

“It is the small one at the center of the brain.~”

Ah, yes. Now he remembered. The one that creeped him out the most. Carefully he let his hand phase through the boy's head and brought it back up again, like someone trying to catch a tadpole without harming it. He could feel the little device in there, sentient in the simplest of ways and reacting to the dark energy of his ability, withdrawing thin filaments from where they laid nestled between the boy's brain cells, like a spider slowly drawing its legs close. 

He pulled it out, eying the little device with distaste. It was small, just slightly bigger than a grain of rice, and almost half of it consisted of the filaments in their retracted form, all bunched up in tangles around each other. How it manipulated the boy's emotions he didn't know, but it worked apparently, otherwise the Earl wouldn't bother adjusting it. 

“Can make things like this yet still having to work to get his loyalty,” Tyki muttered. “Doesn't make sense.”

“Excitement and pleasure are simple emotions, Tyki.~” 

Tyki blinked. The Earl was standing quite a bit closer than he had thought. “Simple?” 

The Earl nodded, polishing his glasses on his sleeve. “There are numerous substances in the human body that can be considered hormones, or akin to hormones, and carry messages through the body.~ Many emotions come from a combination of such substances and from interactions between -, as well as reactions within the cells of the brain themselves.~” He accepted the tiny device from Tyki, raising it to eye level to appraise. “Most of these combinations are too complex to induce artificially, and chances of mistakes exceed the chances of success.~ Some however, are simple enough that with just by manipulating a few of these substances you can induce them, which is where this one comes in.~” 

He put the device down and started working on it with some of the most delicate tools Tyki had ever seen. “Excitement and a basic sense of feeling good, for example. It isn't perfect of course.~ By tying certain olfactory signals to these kind of feelings manually, his brain will slowly make such a connection on its own, which will, with time, create the desired reaction naturally.~ Of course, until it does Allen needs the added stress suppression some of the other devices provide.~” 

Tyki hadn't understood half of it, but he believed he'd gotten the gist. “So you can make him feel good when smelling blood, but not make him trust us because that is too complex.” 

“Well, there are some that make him more susceptible, but on the whole you are indeed correct.~” 

 Tyki rolled his eyes. “Why didn't you just say so?” 

“An attempt at educating you.~”

Tyki sighed. “Anything else you need me for?” 

“In fact, I do.~ Put this in. Broadest piece towards the head, on the spinal column, the thoracic vertebrae.~” _This,_ was a slender mechanism consisting of ten short segments, almost as thick as his little finger. It twitched in his grasp like a half dead snake. 

“Er...” 

“The ones where the ribs are attached to.~ Here, and here.~” The Earl pointed out where the two ends had to come, before returning to whatever he'd been doing. 

“Right.” With his ability Tyki let the device sink through skin and muscles to rest against the vertebrae the Earl had indicated. The thing shivered in his grasp, before starting to mold itself to the shape of the boy's spine, creeping over bone and sheathing it in living metal. That was the good thing about these inventions. They did most of the work themselves. Had Tyki been forced to place it as accurately as it was placing itself, the boy would have been screwed. He wasn't very good with stuff that delicate. 

“When you are done with that you can return this one.~” 

Well, that was fast. Tyki let go and accepted the tiny device. The other thing would settle itself further without his help. Gingerly he put the grain-sized mechanism back in its place within the boy's brain, shivering uneasily when he felt the ghosts of the filaments with his power as they retook their positions, tainted as they were with a whisper of Dark Matter. Not enough to be a danger to the human, no, but enough to be felt when he was concentrating like this.

The level of subtlety was astonishing.

Tyki pulled back his hand. Freaky machine-thing planted, other freaky machine-thing planted, was there anything else? 

Of course there was. 

Several hours later he was leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette while watching the Earl do something to the boy's eye that glowed in oddly disconcerting circles that revolved around each other. 

He blew a plume of smoke. “Did Neah make that?” He had been informed of the boy's background at the beginning of the experiments. It was quite intriguing, despite him having never met the guy. He could understand his family's fascination. 

The Earl nodded distractedly. 

Tyki inhaled, making the tip of his cigarette glow brightly as he filled his lungs with the aromatic fumes. “What are you doing with it?” 

“Adjusting~...,” the Earl muttered, deep in concentration. Tyki got the hint and quietened. 

Finally, three hours, four cigarettes, and some painstakingly drawn glowing patterns in the air later, the Earl rose from his work, stepping back to study it critically. Tyki went to stand next to him, taking in the endlessly revolving patterns. It was pretty enough to end up in an art collection. “So, what does it do?” 

“Well, the original enchantment allowed young Allen to see an akuma's soul.~ Neah did a wonderful job on that.~” Absentmindedly the Earl picked a hair from his sleeve. “It is quite unfortunate that the sight isn't very pleasant. I had to adjust it if Allen was ever going to stand working with them.~” 

Tyki eyed the circular patterns, both the original and the bigger ring encompassing it. The inner layers were all lines and curves arranged upon neat circles of varying sizes, while the outer layer consisted of separate symbols. “It is not the same language,” he observed. 

The Earl shook his head mournfully. “Alas, no. Neah had his own runes. I couldn't change his spell, so I had to add a separate layer.~”

“He was your apprentice.” 

“Ah, but he didn't give me the translation.~ Trying to change the enchantment without that would be like trying to correct a text in a language you don't know.~ And the wording is so very important. Subtle too. I could only use it as a foundation.~” 

Tyki hummed. “So this new layer changes the image?” 

“That is correct.~” 

“Fancy that.”

“I’m glad you appreciate it.~” 

“Not what I meant.” 

The Earl chuckled. 

A short silence. 

“You know,” Tyki said, observing the Earl from the corner of his eye, “Sooner or later he’s going to find out he’s really an accommodator.”

“Oh, don’t fret.~ I’ve already made plans for that occasion.~”

Tyki nodded, leaving it at that. The Earl waved his hand and the glowing runes disappeared underneath the sleeping boy’s skin, leaving no trace of the alteration.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot cock-and-bull stories floating around, but it is true that hormones play a big role in emotions (whether as cause and/or effect is unclear) and can be triggered by, among others, sights, smells and other sensations. Some of the hormones the Earl is talking about: adrenalin, oxytocin, endorphins, and seratonin. Mind, I'm no neurologist, and neither did I do a study about hormonal interactions and effects, so the things the Earl describes probably aren't accurate (very likely really). What's more, remember that this is fiction. Few things I say can be taken for fact in real life, and even then you probably get clashing opinions. But, hey, it's fun coming up with stuff.
> 
> And before the perverts among you jump to weird conclusions, I based Allen's reaction to killing someone on the reactions we see from several akuma during the series (level two in Mater, level 3 that Lenalee fights on their way to Edo).


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. It took me a ridiculously long time to get this chapter out. My apologies for that. Here's to hoping that the next will be less of a drag to write.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Allen rubbed his eye. It had been three days since the Earl had declared it 'fixed' – though his exact words had been more along the lines of 'restored functionality' or something – and the twinges he'd still gotten from it at first had lessened considerably. They were the worst when the eye reacted to akuma, though that was getting better too. Allen was glad for that, because once that part of the repairs had been finished he had been exposed to akuma like it was going out of style. They were _everywhere_.

He would never admit, even on the pain of death, that he had felt a tightness in his throat and his eyes sting when he had realized the Noah had made an effort to spare him, even though it was probably very inconvenient for them. Only Mana had ever done something that nice. In response, his aversion had thawed a little when it came to his Masters. He wouldn't go as far as to trust them yet, but they had certainly earned some points in his book for their consideration towards a 'weak, pitifully impaired weapon'. Wisely's words; not his. Arsehole.

He stole a glance at the akuma on the other end of the table. The elderly man glowed in his newfound sight, the star on his forehead overlain with an oily shimmer that told Allen that it was hidden beneath the human skin. He still couldn't differentiate between the different levels, but according to the Earl that would come once he'd gotten some experience.

Allen didn't really care. He was just glad he could now look at his fellow akuma without wanting to hurl.

The man noticed his glance. "Do you have a question, Allen?" the akuma asked. As a Level Three akuma, his current teacher – Mc-something, Allen hadn't memorized his name yet – acted very much human. According to Road, this was because a higher level generally meant a higher intelligence and thus greater skill at passing as ordinary. Mc-what's-his-name had been a scholar in Durham before the Earl had turned him, and had still fulfilled that role when the Earl had decided that Allen needed an education.

Allen wasn't stupid and had politely inquired – _demanded_ – to know why.

As it was, the Earl had _plans_ with Allen. Plans he needed an akuma with self-restraint for, enough intelligence to pass as normal, and one whose absence wouldn't be questioned. Allen was supposed to be perfect.

Of course, Allen had asked why a higher level akuma wasn't more suited, but then the whole incident with the exorcist had been brought up again, in combination with the fact that Allen was still just a measly Level One. Allen hadn't figured out yet why that was such a big deal.

Wisely had laughed at him and promised he would understand soon enough, which had sounded plain ominous in Allen's opinion. Wisely had laughed at that too.

Allen shook his head, absently answering the Level Three's question. "Just thinking."

The akuma nodded, resuming its reading. Allen heaved an inaudible sigh and returned his concentration to his own work. Apparently his writing and reading skills were 'atrocious'. It had taken him a while to find the word in the dictionary that had been dumped on him as reference material. Couldn't they just have said his skills stank, like normal people?

So now he was stuck doing old homework exercises from Road, plus whatever his teacher cooked up. Which, at the moment, involved _etiquette_ , of all things. And not just normal etiquette, but _upper-class etiquette._

Who on earth would ever be insane enough to invite _him_ to a place where he'd need to use them he didn't know, though 'insane' described the Noah pretty well whenever they decided to ignore the boundaries of ordinary human behaviour. They might do it just for laughs.

' _When introduced to strangers, the correct response to 'How do you do?' is to repeat the phrase. Giving an answer, such as 'Fine thanks', is a major faux pas-'_

Allen heaved an aggravated sigh and hauled out the dictionary. Staring blankly at the pages he couldn't help but ponder the last couple of weeks.

Kojimo was dead. Allen didn't care. Hell, he'd even considered celebrating, only to change his mind when he realized Mana would have been disappointed with him if he did. But two days afterwards he had been asked to kill again, and he still felt that he'd made a mistake somewhere. Kojimo he had hated. The other guy he hadn't even _known_.

Allen had done what the Noah had asked but- well, he wouldn't call it guilt – it _wasn't_ , he hadn't felt sick again, and the Noah had told him guilt wasn't even possible because of what he was – but that didn't erase the nagging discomfort from having killed without reason. Even if the guy had looked like he would beat the crap out of street rats for entertainment, he had never bothered Allen. Allen knew caring about others could get you killed, so he didn't care if the guy _had_ beaten up homeless kids. Which of course should also go the other way around in that he shouldn't care about the guy he had killed.

But still...

Despite the euphoria he had felt, the entire situation grated on his nerves. Even a week and another death later.

It was _bugging_ him.

Honestly, it was all Mana's fault. Before Mana he'd been able to walk past a dying person and only take a look whether there was something to be pilfered, but Mana had made him _care._ About others. About what others thought of him. About a lot of things. If Allen hadn't loved Mana so much, he would have hated the man for that.

_Am I truly doing the right thing, Mana?_

He didn't know. Mana couldn't tell him.

Short term solution? He was avoiding the Noah as well as he could, especially after Wisely had read his thoughts and had cheerfully told him it would get better once he'd gotten used to it. Allen wasn't sure he _wanted_ to get used to it. No matter how convenient it could be to be able to kill without remorse.

The glint in the Noah's eye had told Allen he wouldn't get a choice.

So.

Avoidance it was.

He sighed again, glancing at his etiquette book and listlessly making a note in the notebook Road had dumped on him for his studies. It was pink and purple and Allen honestly couldn't bring himself to care. He was too used to her antics by now. The pink was actually a nice dark pink and not a headache-inducing bright one. He'd take what he could get.

"Having fun, boy?"

Allen yelped an nearly jumped out of his skin, the pencil in his hand giving a protesting _creak_ in his suddenly crushing grip. He whirled around, a small voice whispering _careful_ in the back of his head, which was the only thing keeping him from decking the person behind him purely out of reflex.

Allen blinked up at the smirking man, and scowled when the man snickered. Allen's eyes narrowed in thought. It had been some time since he had helped Road out but, "Master Tyki, right?"

The man smiled, golden eyes a little too calculating. That seemed to be a family trait. "Right in one, boy. It's been a while."

Allen nodded a bit more stiffly than was polite. Damn it, when would they quit looking at him like that?

"Was there something you needed, Master?" Allen asked when the silence started to stretch. Briefly Allen wondered why Mc-what's-his-name didn't react to the Noah's presence. Maybe Tyki visited the library often? He hadn't struck Allen as the type.

Tyki offered him a winning smile. Allen's brow creased further. "Can't I just be curious about our newest star akuma? Road is quite taken with you, you know?"

Allen scoffed inwardly, on the outside merely wrinkling his nose. He knew where he ranked in Road's thoughts. "More like taken with having a life-sized toy to make fun off."

Tyki chuckled. "That too, yeah."

A sidelong glance from golden eyes. "Wisely and Road seemed convinced you desired some time away from them. Not that I can't relate, they can be annoying."

Allen's shoulders sagged. So that was why the avoidance thing had actually worked. They were being considerate. _Again._ Probably only for their own purposes, but still.

"You know, boy, normally they don't bother. They must like you a lot. Wonder how that happened."

Allen glared at the far wall, not daring to look at the one he really wanted to glare at. "Tell me when you figure it out, will you?"

Tyki chuckled. "Sure."

They were both quiet for a while, Allen focusing on his work and Tyki leafing through a random book he had pulled from the shelves.

A few minutes later the Noah shut it with a decisive _snap._

Allen pretended he hadn't jumped at the sudden sound and glared at the innocent words on the page in front of him.

"Say, boy," the Noah started conversationally. "Ever played cards?"

Allen looked up, one brow rising as he watched the practised way with which Tyki pulled out a pack of cards with a flourish, and made the cards jump from one hand to the other. He decided to humour the Noah.

"Mostly tricks, but I do know a few games," he answered, eyes following the flashing cards as Tyki started to shuffle them.

"Yeah?" Tyki smiled. "Show me."

Allen suddenly found the decorative pack thrust in his face. He reared back, startled, and then shot a sullen glower in the Noah's direction when the man laughed. A mental eyebrow rose. Allen wasn't dense. He knew he was being prodded into accepting a challenge when it happened.

Summoning his best Innocent Smile, he accepted the pack, hands a blur as he started shuffling it, steadily increasing his speed to get his fingers used to the deceptive dance again. Then he started to sort the cards, throwing them on the table seemingly at random, flipping them so the fronts were facing up. Tyki's brow rose as the randomly flipped cards came out perfectly sorted by colour and value.

The moment all cards where on the table Allen gathered them up again in a flash, resuming his shuffling to display his skill at deception.

Tyki grinned, and Allen recognized the pleased edge in curve of the Noah's lips. "Not bad, boy. Not bad at all," the older man complimented. He even sounded like he meant it. "Circus trick?"

Allen had to fight to keep his grief from seeping into his expression. "Yes," he confirmed. Allen hoped his smile wasn't as fake as it felt.

"Your teacher must've been good. Are you any decent at poker?"

"I am," Allen nodded. And carefully didn't smirk. Poker, _Circus Style,_ to be exact _._ How had Jeremy, the keeper of the entertainment stands, put it again? _"Nay, good sir, I ain't cheatin'. I just got the amazin' fortune ta win whenever I feel like it,"_ he'd said in that butter-wouldn't-melt way of his to a none-too-bright patron, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and making little smoky circles in the air as he talked. Because the show was just the show, the flashy distraction for the people to remember at the end of the night. The entertainment stands that were in business during the day and the evening hours were the ones bringing in the _real_ money. It was funny how no one ever suspected the cute shrimpy clown kid who was so happy to be allowed to play along. Whose smile was sweeter than the lollipops from the candy stall and whose clumsy fumbles were something to laugh about, and never mind that he was a lucky little shit who won by a narrow margin a good fourth of the time.

Maybe the Noah sensed some of that, because his smirk was a little too evil when he said, "Excellent! You're coming with me."

Allen's protests fell on deaf ears.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Going out with Tyki turned out to be quite a bit different from what Allen had expected. It started with the clothes. Tyki had him dress in clothes that were only a smidgen better than the ones he had worn before he'd ever heard of the circus. They were worn, filthy, smelly, and falling apart at the seams. Tyki had, to Allen's astounded surprise, dressed in something similar, and had then rubbed something in their hair that made it look as if the closest thing they had come to bathing had a bit of rain a couple of days ago. He had also handed Allen a pot of skin-coloured face paint to cover up his scar.

It felt like coming home.

"There. That is a far better look for you, boy," the Noah had said after studying the final result, tousling Allen's grubby hair in the process.

Allen had peered up at him, uncertain. To his surprise there hadn't been a hint of malice in that comment. Instead, it had sounded more like light-hearted teasing.

Tyki had smirked down at him. "What?" the Noah had asked, trying and failing to feign cluelessness. "You looked like a puppy stuck in a tree, so out of place you were in what Road and the Earl consider _acceptable clothes_. Honestly, they just don't get that you can't dump a kid like you in a place like ours and be done with it."

 _And how would you know that?_ Allen wondered. He raised an inquiring brow.

Somehow, Tyki seemed to understand his unspoken question. "What, you think that all of our clan are born with a silver spoon in their mouth?"

Allen shrugged. He wouldn't have been surprised if that had been the case. Though now Tyki reminded him, Wisely had said something like that too.

"Ha," Tyki scoffed. "No. We're not. We live as humans, until we awaken as Noah. Before I became a Noah I lived in circumstances not so different from yours. I know the low and dirty life, boy. And I know that it isn't easy to leave behind. You can get used to living in luxury, but once you've survived the streets, part of them will always stay with you."

"Now, boy," he continued, ignoring Allen's contemplative silence, "there are a few card tricks I will use that you should know about before we go out and play. Watch carefully."

Allen watched intensely as Tyki showed him a card – Jack of Spades – before randomly shoving it somewhere into the deck, taking care it was perfectly aligned with the other cards so it was impossible to see exactly which one was the card he had picked. Allen only knew by carefully memorizing its location in the stack.

Then Tyki grabbed the top card and showed it to Allen. It was the Jack of Spades.

Allen stared at the cards in Tyki's hand, and then at the deck. That… shouldn't be possible. Unless there was more than one Jack of Spades in the deck, but he had shuffled it not long before and Tyki had left it in plain sight the whole time, so he knew that wasn't the case. He had watched very attentively, he was _sure_ Tyki hadn't employed one of the many tricks Allen knew to switch the cards around. So how had he done it? "Show again," he demanded.

Tyki did, features poker blank except for a smirk. Again, Allen saw nothing out of place. He glared at the cards and the annoyingly amused Noah.

Wait a minute... Noah. "You're using your powers?" Allen asked accusingly.

The smirk became real. Tyki clapped. "Well done, boy. You have a good eye." Then he quickly showed Allen a couple of other tricks. Allen took care to memorize them, and then showed Tyki some of his own techniques, just to make sure they wouldn't get in each other's way. It wouldn't do if they played the same card at the same time after all. That would just be embarrassing.

"Alright," Tyki stated once they were done. "Time to be off. Think you can handle a bit of American poker?"

Allen nodded with a frown. "Just tell me if there are differences in rules."

"There are a few differences in the order in which things are done, and some versions have a different number of cards, but otherwise it's nothing too big…"

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

As it turned out, when Tyki said they'd go somewhere to play poker, he meant that in an entirely different way than Allen would have. Instead of finding an American bar somewhere in England, Tyki had used the Ark to _go to America._ The Noah were crazy, Allen decided sourly. Who the hell went from England to America just to play poker? Especially because, once there, Tyki picked seediest bar he could find. It was hardly different from the bars in England. Then again, given that all they had to do to get there was stepping through a door, Allen wasn't too surprised that the Noah cheerfully abused their ridiculous luxury.

And on the bright side, they had less chance of running into the Black Order this way. The exorcist organisation probably didn't have members in a place as far away as America.

Still, he was a bit miffed at getting dragged to a completely foreign country. The Americans spoke English, but the slang was very different from any he had heard before even on the docks. It made Allen feel far more off kilter than he liked.

"Don't look so down, boy. We're out to have ourselves some fun," Tyki reprimanded distractedly as he observed the bar he had selected. "Yes, I think this place will do."

"Won't people realize you're not normal?" Allen asked irritably, shooting a pointed look at the Noah's hands, whose dark, greyish pallor wouldn't be considered healthy by anyone not drunk or brain damaged. Automatically he checked whether his own unusual hand was covered entirely. "People will think you've got something awful with skin like that."

Tyki blinked at him. Slapped a fist into his open palm. "Good point, boy!"

Then, to Allen's astounded eyes, Tyki's skin went from ashen to a healthy, Mediterranean-looking tan. The crosses that had been almost completely hidden by his messy fringe disappeared out of sight entirely.

Allen stared, knowing his jaw was hanging loose but too stunned to haul it back up again. Tyki gave him a satisfied smirk. That, more than anything else, was what snapped Allen out of his shock. He glared balefully at the Noah. Tyki's smirk just grew wider.

"… I can't believe you did that slap in the middle of the bloody street," Allen muttered darkly.

Tyki shrugged. "As if anyone was paying enough attention to me to notice. And even if someone saw they'd just think they were seeing things."

"Whatever. We're going in or not?"

Tyki gave him a toothy smirk. "What are you waiting for?"

Tyki turned out to be a first-class actor. He played the dodgy vagabond to the T, using swift words and cheerful idiocy to talk them past the bouncer and into a small room at the back where a poker table was set out. Allen shouldn't have been surprised. Bloody Noah.

The dealer was a bit more difficult. The moment they stepped through the door the sour man gave Tyki a suspicious glare. "No funny business." He warned. Then the dealer narrowed his eyes. "The kid?"

"Stunted growth," Tyki lied glibly. He winked. "Nothing contagious. Promise."

The man grunted, but didn't make an issue out of it. "Stakes?"

Tyki pulled out a wad of banknotes with a phony smile. "I was thinking to start with this."

The game was on.

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

Allen eyed five guys in white coats who had just come in. After having won a nice little sum, Tyki had them relocate to another bar. This one didn't have a backroom, but in return it had multiple tables. The queer-looking newcomers were looking around with an air of permanent nervousness and were carrying large backpacks that were made of way too much metal to be normal. Allen watched them with deep suspicion as the group approached the barman and started to ask questions.

"Who're that supposed to be?" he asked Tyki. "They're weird."

The Noah cast a subtle look in the white-clad men from behind his drink. "Finders," Tyki informed him. "The eyes and ears of the Black Order. I'm surprised they dare come here dressed in their official gear. They're damn obvious that way."

Allen clenched his jaw against the stab of anxiety that rushed through him. "Why are they _here_? We're in _America._ "

Tyki shrugged. "Probably for the gossip." He glanced curiously at Allen. "Don't tell me you don't know that the Black Order has branches all over the world?"

Allen shot him a toxic glare. "I didn't."

"Oh" Tyki said, unfazed. "Well, now you do." He smirked and patted Allen patronizingly on his head. "Don't worry, boy, I won't let them get to you. I doubt they would recognize you anyway."

Allen grumbled and kept eyeing the finders warily. The group had finished talking with the barman and were now spreading out among the clientele, continuing to ask questions the entire time. From the corner of his eye Allen noticed the steadily darkening expressions of the owners of the establishment. The people the finders had talked to weren't looking too happy either.

One of the finders was slowly making his way into their direction. The closer he got the tenser Allen became. Tyki was watching the proceedings with thinly veiled amusement. Mere moments before the finder reached their table, there was a shout from a different table. Tyki's smirk widened.

"What the fuck, man?! Keep yer shitty mouth shut, ya freak!" The man who was shouting was big and burly and appeared quite drunk. He also had the distinct glow of an akuma. The finder that had apparently offended him was reed-thin and quaking in his boots, eyes moving wildly as he looked for a way out. The other finders quickly rallied around him. Allen let out a soundless sigh of relief while Tyki was very deliberately not snickering.

"Ah, newbie finders and touchy drunks," the Noah sighed with false exasperation. He grinned. "Always good for a laugh."

Somewhere in the finders direction, glass shattered.

"So tell me, boy, how good are you at bar fights?"

Allen stared as the large akuma threw a punch at the reedy finder, who ducked. The akuma lost his balance and landed with a crash, breaking a chair in the process. "Depends whether I can run."

Tyki grinned despite a bottle that was well on its way of painfully acquainting itself with his face. Tyki tilted his head so it sailed past. The man behind them swore as the bottle hit him instead. Yells and screams started to permeate the air as more and more people were drawn into the fight. Something stirred in Allen's stomach, as always since the Earl had started his repairs, and Allen shifted uneasily.

A quick glance to the side told Allen that Tyki was observing him with shrewd contemplation. Allen his teeth. Damn it! It happened _once!_ He knew his reaction with Kojimo had been bad, but the Earl's modifications had helped! He wasn't going to lose it in the middle of a brawl! Even if the fighting was... exciting. And the sounds of violence sent pleasurable tingles down his spine.

Someone shattered a bottle and lashed out with the remains. Red flew. Allen watched until the wounded man disappeared in the shuffle. Then snapped out of it and sent the Noah a baleful glare, hating the knowing look in those eyes.

"Don't worry, boy," Tyki soothed with a laugh. "Your reaction is entirely expected." With a flourish he pulled a dagger seemingly out of nowhere. "Wanna join in? You can't use your akuma weapon yet so this should do, no?"

Allen hesitated. Were they really going to join a _bar fight?_ With _actual weapons?_ Tyki teasingly dangled it in front of his face, dark eyes challenging behind his smile. Allen huffed. Noah and their goddamn schemes. Setting his reluctance aside, he accepted the dagger, eyes roving over the brawling crowd with apprehension.

"Stay close, boy," Tyki ordered idly as he pulled out a pair of long knives for himself. "You may be an akuma, but this is going to get messy." He tossed a grin Allen's way. "Worse come to worse, move towards the walls and hide."

Allen didn't say anything. While he had had his fair share of scrapes, he had never been in a fight where this many adults were participating. He didn't know how he would handle being surrounded by struggling bodies, but there was no denying the excitement that was stirring in his gut.

He took a deep breath, and then followed the Noah into the melee. Immediately he lost track of his surroundings beyond the small area of about five feet directly around him. Everything was confusing and loud, broken glasses and furniture making the area treacherous as Allen stumbled to keep up with Tyki, who seemed right in his element as he slashed left and right. Allen's quick reflexes allowed him to dodge the first few blows and kicks thrown his way from inattentive brawlers, before a fist managed to catch him on his shoulder. With a snarl Allen lashed out, his sharp dagger effortlessly drawing blood. His victim stumbled back with a cry and was lost in the crowd.

A quick look around was all he had to realize he had lost sight of Tyki, before another man engaged him. Allen bared his teeth and attacked. Dodge, run, slash, everything was a blur of violence. His heart beat like a drum and his breath was fast and uneven. His blood was singing in his veins and the rush of battle was terrifying in its intensity. The world around him was fever bright and Allen couldn't deny the heat radiating from his gut as blood started to stain the floor in high enough quantities to make some parts slippery.

He had never felt more alive.

A bullet whizzed past his face, but he barely noticed it. He had caught sight of Tyki again. He rushed over, but was blocked by a man raising a broken bottle above his head, clearly intending to bury the sharp glass in the Noah's back. Allen reacted without thinking. He didn't like the Noah and he certainly didn't trust them. But so far, they had treated him far more decently than he had ever expected even in his most optimistic moments. And he wouldn't let some drunk tosser muck that up by injuring Tyki.

He stabbed the man in the back, a bit to the left and just below the ribcage. The man went down with a scream, his weight ripping the dagger out of Allen's hand.

"Nice, boy!" Tyki complimented him cheerfully as he bent down to slam one of his knives into the man's neck. He wrenched it free with a sickeningly wet sound.

Allen nodded distractedly as he retrieved his dagger, too caught in the feverish desire the battle had roused in him. He only barely registered Tyki approving grin. "Master?" Allen asked breathlessly, not even knowing what he wanted to ask the Noah.

Tyki seemed to understand anyway. "We'll continue Allen. It won't be much longer now."

Allen nodded and absently stabbed a passing fighter in the side. The retaliating blow was dodged with an quick step to the side. Bullets impacted the ground around him. Black stars appeared on the skin of the man that had attacked him before the man crumbled into dust.

The sudden hush that followed was deafening in its silence.

"Well," Tyki said distractedly, brushing a few splinters off his sleeve. "That was fun. Feel any better?"

Allen blinked, shaking his head as the haze of battle slowly faded. He opened his mouth to ask whether someone had hit the Noah over the head, when he realized he actually _did._ The day hadn't been normal in any way, shape, or form, but far less unsettling than any day on the ark. He shut his mouth, too surprised to say anything. Only now that it was gone did he realize how much his skin had been crawling with pent-up, frustrated energy.

He was too surprised to do more than twitch when Tyki patted him on the head with a smirk and said, "Thought so."

XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX(xxxx)XXX

After having dropped the kid off at his room, Tyki wandered the halls of the Ark. He had to say his outing with the little akuma-exorcist had been surprisingly enjoyable. When the Earl had given him orders to establish a bond with the boy that was more informal than Road's or Wisely's, he had despaired. How was he supposed to create a bond with a _kid_? A little brat of the streets that was wary as any scarred alley cat and probably just as vicious when pushed? But, much to his delighted surprise, the boy had turned out to have at least one hobby in common with him.

Tyki resolved to take Allen out for poker more often. He might not play for the money, but he did enjoy a good, mean game. And damn, the kid could play mean. Had they been in a more high-class establishment they could have made a small fortune. He sighed at his lack of foresight. Oh well. There was always later.

Kid wasn't too shabby in a fight either. He was fast on his feet and had good reflexes, though he clearly had little experience with wielding a dagger. He made a mental note to tell the Earl to correct that if he wanted Allen to be useful. Especially if Tyki's suspicions were right and the Earl wanted Allen to do more than an ordinary akuma's job. Kid had to know how to fight like a human if he wanted to be able to fool the Black Order.

Humming a tune, Tyki homed in on the sense of family a little ways away. Looked like the Earl was still at work. Tyki grinned. Marvellous. He had some reporting to do. And give the Earl his compliments on a job well done. While Tyki had seen that Allen had spotted the akuma he had used to start the bar fight with, his eye hadn't visibly reacted to the akuma's presence. A vast improvement, if Road and Wisely could be believed. Whistling a merry tune, he entered the lab.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated. Please let me know what you thought!


End file.
